


Take Me Out Tonight

by lahhvzombie (itsalieri)



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Blow Jobs, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, M/M, Marrissey, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:32:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5174699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsalieri/pseuds/lahhvzombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Morrissey's senior year in high school and he meets a handsome, leather-clad boy with a motorcycle. [ABANDONED]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Morrissey… Steven Morrissey…? No Morrissey?”

“Here!” Morrissey said, reluctantly tearing his eyes off of his copy of the Picture of Dorian Gray and raising his hand. His teacher, Ms. Thatcher, eyed him exasperatedly, and marked her clipboard. 

“From now on you will respond when you are called on Mr. Morrissey.” Snickers and giggles filled the small classroom.

“Yes, ma’am” he replied mechanically, glaring at her through his eyelashes before returning to his book. It was the first day of Morrissey’s senior year at St. Mary’s high school and was hating it already. Morrissey had been more reluctant than most to return to school, although it was not because of his grades. He’d gotten nearly all A’s every year so far and this year was most likely going to be the same. His hatred for school was derived from his detestation of social interaction. Morrissey had locked himself in his room for the entire duration of summer vacation, listening to old records, writing about his loathing for people and his miserable life to appease his misunderstood soul, and reading about the love of dead poets. He’d never had any friends and, therefore, no one to drag him out of the prison that was his own mind. 

“Today we are going to do a small activity to help all of you get to know one another,” Ms. Thatcher said, in the most monotone voice Morrissey had ever heard, after she had finished taking attendance and introducing herself. Morrissey cringed at the announcement and looked up from his book.

“Now, I want all of you to stand up and pick someone you haven’t met before or someone you don’t know too well and… well, get to know them.” Thatcher said plainly. “And I’ll be able to tell if you know your partner” she added threateningly.

Regardless of her implied threats, everyone began to stand up, eying their friends and signaling for them to pair up. Morrissey remained seated and scanned the room for anyone new. Many of the students in the small classroom he’d known from his earlier years, and all of them wanted nothing to do with him. However, there was a boy who caught his attention. He wasn’t by any means, handsome, in the conventional sense, but there was something about his cool, dark complexion that interested Morrissey. 

Morrissey collected his books and waddled awkwardly across the room towards the strange boy.

“Hi,” he began lamely, and pushed his thick-framed glasses farther up his nose, “I’m Steven. Steven Morrissey.” 

“Oh, hey” the other boy said, seemingly startled out of a daydream. A pair of the most beautiful golden brown eyes Morrissey had ever seen stared up at him in awkward expectation. 

“And you are…?” Morrissey offered, trying to keep up the conversation that seemed to be ending as fast as it had started.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” the boy mumbled, “I’m Johnny Marr.”

Morrissey smiled hesitantly and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Johnny.” Johnny smiled back at the strange quiffed boy and took his hand, shaking it firmly for a few seconds before releasing it. The contact excited Morrissey but also made him kind of sad that it had ended so quickly.

They stood together uncomfortably for a while. The sound of happy chattering from the other students filled the classroom.

“So…” Morrissey started, “you’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

“Yeah, that’s right” said Johnny, looking around shyly. 

An idea sprouted in Morrissey’s mind. “Want me to show you around the place after class?” Morrissey prayed to the god he didn’t believe in that he didn’t sound too excited.  
“That would be great actually” Johnny said smiling. Morrissey had to work hard to stop himself from sighing with relief that the boy had not rejected him like everyone else in his life had. Well he hasn’t rejected me yet, he told himself. 

The pair talked until Ms. Thatcher ordered everyone back to their assigned seats.

Morrissey was thrilled to discover that Johnny was into many of the same things that he was. They particularly bonded over their love for music. Johnny had revealed his obsession with playing the guitar. He’d said, with much pride, that he’d learned to strum his first chord before he’d even learned how to walk. Morrissey was absolutely enthralled with his new friend. Friend. Morrissey wondered if that was the right word to use. After all, what exactly did friendship incorporate? How long did one have to know the other in order to consider them a ‘friend’? Of course he was over-analyzing things but this was probably the closest he had ever been to anyone besides his mother. Morrissey was both thrilled and terrified of his future with the strange brown-eyed boy.

 

As class came to an end and the students began to slowly squeeze their way out of the classroom and out into the hallway, Morrissey saw Johnny leaning against the wall near the door, no doubt waiting for his tour guide to come and collect him. Morrissey snuck a greedy glance at the boy. His cool black leather jacket and faded skinny jeans made Morrissey’s stomach fill with butterflies. Or could have it been dread?

He quickly looked away and gathered his things in his bookbag. Johnny gave Morrissey a smirk as the taller boy stumbled up to him. 

“So… where do you want to start?” Morrissey said as the two walked out of the classroom. 

“How about the cafeteria?” Johnny suggested.

“Wait. are you saying you didn’t have lunch today?” 

“Well… I sort of got lost-” Morrissey snorted in an attempt to stifle his laughter. The idea that someone as cool and tough-looking as Johnny wandering around the school like a child who’d lost his mother at the supermarket was excruciatingly funny to the quiffed boy. “Hey! The school is bigger that what I’m used to!” Johnny said, defending himself. Nonetheless, Johnny joined in on Morrissey’s fit of laughter.

Then it dawned on him that Johnny, having been unable to locate the cafeteria, probably hadn’t eaten that day. He resolved to ask him out to grab a bite. Did that count as a… date? What drew the line between just hanging out and going on a date? 

The two walked down dozens of small, almost identical-looking hallways before climbing up a large stairway to the cafeteria. Morrissey grinned at Johnny who rolled his eyes at him. Morrissey continued to show Johnny around the school for a few hours before the janitor eventually kicked them out.

As the boys walked outside into the cool autumn air, Morrissey remembered his plan to grab a bite to eat.

“So... do you have to be anywhere important right now?” Morrissey asked timidly, preparing for the worst. God, you sound so desperate! the voice in his head screamed at him.  
“Not particularly. Why do you ask?” Johnny said coyly. 

“Oh, uh, well... I was just wondering, since you didn’t have any lunch today, what with you getting lost and everything, if you’d like to grab a something to eat with me maybe…?” Morrissey stuttered.

Johnny stared coolly at the mess that was Morrissey for a few moments. Morrissey blushed and looked away in an attempt to look as nonchalant as Johnny. “I get it if you don’t want-”

“Where did you have in mind?” Johnny interrupted, grinning at the other boy. 

Morrissey struggled to hide his excitement as he returned Johnny’s smile. The look in Johnny’s eyes mesmerized Morrissey but he forced himself to look away, remembering he had to answer the question. “I know this 50’s style diner a few blocks away.”

“Let’s go!” Johnny said, walking towards the parking lot.

Morrissey’s brows furrowed in confusion. “W-where are you going? Aren’t I leading the way?”

“Of course you are!” Johnny said, turning to look at Morrissey with a large smile plastered on his face. Johnny’s constantly smiling face reminded Morrissey a lot of The Man Who Laughs. He rolled his eyes and followed the smaller man. Morrissey saw Johnny hop on top of a shiny black motorbike. He couldn’t help but admire how perfect Johnny looked perched on top of it. He felt his jeans tighten around him and prayed to God that their bagginess would be enough to hide his embarrassment. 

“Well… what are you waiting for? Hop on!” 

Morrissey stumbled on behind Johnny. The engine roared and Johnny put on a pair of circular shades. Morrissey’s heart fluttered when the boy turned to look at him. “Hold on tight” he said, smirking.

Morrissey hardly had time to process his words before he was jolted back. Fearing for his life, his flailing arms wrapped themselves around Johnny’s slender waist tightly. Johnny threw his head back, overcome with laughter. 

Morrissey was horrified by how fast and dangerously Johnny was driving. This was, after all, how James Dean had met his maker. After a while, Morrissey had managed to calm himself down and loosened his grip on the smaller boy. Morrissey could feel the warmth of Johnny’s back pressing against his chest. It felt so good being this close to someone. He wished he could have stayed like this forever. 

Morrissey pointed out the way to the diner reluctantly, not wanting to bring their closeness to an end. The pair zoomed wildly down the narrow roads of their small town.  
Johnny pulled into the parking lot of the diner and the low purr of the engine stopped. Morrissey stumbled off the bike and smiled shyly at the black-haired boy.  
“Where’d you learn to drive this thing?”

Johnny laughed. “Taught myself” he said coyly. The look of horror that came over Morrissey’s face made him laugh even more.

Eventually, the two made their way into the aesthetically vintage diner. The decor inside was absolutely beautiful. Everything- the furniture and appliances- appeared to be authentic, which was what made Peggy Sue’s diner Morrissey’s favorite place to eat. They also had a wide variety of vegan-friendly food on the menu. 

A pretty, young girl with cute and short finger-waved dark hair seated the boys at a booth near the front window and handed them their menus. “Just wave me over when you’re ready to order” she said, smiling flirtatiously at Johnny. He thanked her and smiled back with the same amount of interest. Oh God Morrissey groaned internally. Picking up a menu and pretending to examine it was all he could do to stop himself from clawing the girl’s eyes out. Why did he feel so jealous? It’s not like Johnny was his boyfriend. He probably didn’t even like guys.

Johnny took off his sunglasses and browsed through the menu curiously. Morrissey snuck a lingering glance at the boy. Everything about him screamed ‘heterosexuality’. God, he was such an idiot to believe even for a second that Johnny would ever be interested in being more than just friends with him. Morrissey sighed quietly and forced himself to look away.

“What are you gonna get?” Morrissey said timidly after a while, when it looked like Johnny had finished deciding.

“Veggie burger, fries and maybe a coke. I don’t eat meat.” he said blatantly. 

A smile spread across Morrissey’s oval face. “I don’t either!” he said, a little too excitedly. They both smiled at each other and Morrissey cursed himself for falling even more in love with this strange, charming man.  
When they’d finished eating and discussing old vinyls, the realization that they’d have to get up early the next morning for school dawned on Johnny and Morrissey. School. Morrissey had completely forgotten about school, forgotten that he’d literally just met Johnny that afternoon. He’d felt like he’d known the boy for ages. For the entire duration of their ‘date’ (was that the right word?) Johnny had been the only thing on his mind.

As Johnny drove Morrissey home, he was reluctant to let go of boy’s small frame. Never had Morrissey ever craved the touch of another person until now.  
“Thanks for showing me around, I really enjoyed today.” Johnny said over the purr of his bike. 

“Y-yeah, me too…” Morrissey replied lamely. He hated how pathetic he sounded in comparison to Johnny’s smooth, collected tone.  
“Well… I’d better get going. See you tomorrow, Steven.”

“Call me Morrissey please” he said without thinking. “Steven sounds too nerdy” he added quickly. 

“Yeah, but you are a nerd” Johnny teased, pushing Morrissey’s glasses higher up his nose with his index finger. Morrissey blushed and looked down at his feet. “I think ‘Morrissey’ is a little too long though. I’ll think of something later.” 

It was only after they’d said their “goodbye’s” and Morrissey watched Johnny ride away into the darkness that Morrissey realized how late it actually was. The stars were out and there was a full moon beaming like a beacon, occasionally disappearing for a few seconds when a dark cloud or two passed by. 

As he approached the front steps of his mother’s house, Morrissey noticed that the lights were still on inside. His mother must have been waiting all day for him to come home. God, what time even was it? His thoughts had been so full of Johnny that he’d completely forgotten to check the time. As soon as he opened the door, he heard his mother frantically calling out his name. 

“Steven?! Steven!!! Where in God’s name have you been?! I’ve been worried half to death! Do you know how close I was to calling the police?!”

“Mom, please, I’m all right! Just calm down.” Morrissey pleaded as Ms. Dwyer continued to babble on. When she finally gave him the time to answer her questions he said “ I just was hanging out with a… friend.” He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as possible, like it was no big deal. But it was a big deal. Johnny was the first friend he’d practically ever had. Although he was proud of his newly established friendship with the boy, he knew that Johnny would eventually start to think him weird, like the rest of the entire human race did. Regardless, he wanted to enjoy every moment with Johnny before things had the chance to go sour. 

“A friend?!” Ms. Dwyer repeated in disbelief. “What do you mean ‘a friend’?” she said in suspicion. Morrissey rolled his eyes and sighed, climbing up the stairs to his bedroom.  
“Just someone from school, Mom. His name’s Johnny, he’s new.” he said concisely to his mother, who was trailing behind him. He tossed his book-bag on the floor and collapsed onto his bed.

“‘Johnny’” she repeated. She had a habit of doing that and, though he loved his mother very much, it annoyed the living hell out of Morrissey. “‘Johnny.’ Hmm. Tell me about him.”  
Morrissey sighed and sat up. “Well, he’s into music like I am” he began in an amused tone. He tried to describe Johnny as quickly and simply as possible but caught himself constantly elaborating and focusing on small, insignificant details. But they weren’t insignificant to him. Far from it. He was pretty much in love with everything about the black-haired boy. He hoped he hadn’t made the sheer love he felt for Johnny that obvious, but from the look in his mother’s eyes, he could tell she already knew. 

“Well…” his mother said after Morrissey had trailed off, “glad to see you’re finally getting out of the house.” She gave him a massive smile, which made Morrissey roll his eyes and blush furiously. She gave her son a tight hug and they said their ‘goodnights’ awkwardly. That night Morrissey dreamt he was driving into the darkness of the night with a small leather-clad boy.


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in his life, Morrissey woke up eager to get to school. He looked for Johnny that afternoon at lunch, hoping that the little man hadn’t completely forgotten everything Morrissey had showed him the day before. As he scanned through the crowds, his eyes were immediately drawn to greased back, jet black hair. Morrissey felt his heart flutter for what seemed like the thousandth time. He had begun to suspect he had developed a heart condition.

Before he could approach his new friend, he was suddenly jolted forward, causing him to fall flat on his face. He heard the breaking of glass and cringed. Shit! My glasses! He glared behind him, trying to pinpoint the force that had caused him to fall.

“How ya doin’ down there, Steve?” came a smooth, deep voice.

As Morrissey squinted more he saw the undeniable outline of Mike Joyce with his goon, Andy Rourke, standing behind him. Mike and Andy were two of the most popular kids in the school. They were the posterchildren of masculinity and heterosexuality -- polar opposites of Morrissey! Rumor had it, the two had slept with nearly all of the women in the school, including the teachers (the attractive ones, for the most part). Their faded blue jeans, black leather jacket, and perfectly greased pompadours made them the envy of every guy in the school. All except Morrissey of course. Morrissey’s peculiar choice of clothing, and shy feminine manner made him an automatic target for Mike and Andy’s torments, and it had been this way since he first stepped foot at the school.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Morrissey yelled, his voice cracking miserably, as he got up and tried to dust himself off.

“My problem?” said Mike, “you’re the one who needs to watch where you’re going, faggot!” A small crowd had begun to form around the trio.

“Jesus Christ, can’t you guys just leave me alone?!” Morrissey pleaded, collecting his broken glasses.

“Ah! So you don’t deny that you’re a fag!”

Morrissey, not wanting to be subject to any more rough physical contact with Mike or Andy, turned to make his way out of the mass of people but felt a strong hand grip his bony shoulder and tug him forcefully back into the center of the crowd.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going ya queer? You know what we do to queers around here, don’t ya?” Mike growled threateningly.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Morrissey shouted, swatting at the jock’s grubby hand.

“What is going on here?” came a loud rumble.

The students that had accumulated around the scene quickly dispersed when they saw Principal Weeks approaching, until only Andy, Mike and Morrissey remained. 

Andy smiled at the authority. “Steve-o here just tripped over someone’s backpack, you know how these kids are always leaving their bags about. Mike and I were just helping Steve up, you see!” The pair began dusting the quiffed boy off. Weeks sighed, obviously unconvinced by their story. 

“Is that right, Steven?” Weeks inquired.

Morrissey glared at the two boys on either side of him.“Yeah...that’s right” Morrissey said, not wanting to sound even more pathetic than he already was.

Weeks studied the four of them for a few moments before nodding.“Well then. If it’s all settled.” Weeks said, and he walked away, shaking his head and mumbling to himself as he left. 

“Remember where we left off, poof.” Mike said, forcefully shoving into Morrissey with his shoulder and strolling off with Andy trailing close behind. Morrissey stood there with his jaw locked until he looked around and saw people glaring and whispering to each other. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment and he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to flee from their judgmental eyes. 

Morrissey, desperate to get away, scurried out of the cafeteria and down an isolated hallway looking for somewhere to hide. At the very end of the hallway was a restroom with an ‘out of order’ sign taped to the door. Fortunately for him, it was unlocked! As soon as he entered, he locked the door and rushed to one of the stalls to empty that morning’s breakfast into the toilet. His throat stung and tears began to trickle down his red cheeks. He’d never felt so humiliated in his life. He was no stranger to the taunts and torments of Mike and Andy, but they had always been verbal. He looked down at the shattered glasses that were still in his hand and laughed bitterly to himself. How pathetic he was!  
Morrissey groaned and, with great effort, stood up on shaky legs. As he began splashing his face with cool water, he remembered catching a glimpse of Johnny back at the cafeteria. Had he seen the incident? After all, there were a lot of people crowded around him at the time. If he did witness it, would he think any different of Morrissey? Would he finally realize what a weakling he really was? Most importantly, would he regret the time he’d spent with him?

The screaming ring of the school bell ripped Morrissey out of his trance. He finished drying off his face and emotionally prepared himself for the rest of the day.

When he entered his sixth period class, he avoided eye contact with Johnny (which was rather easier than he anticipated due to his lack of vision). Morrissey was grateful that they were on opposite sides of the classroom. He was afraid that Johnny had probably heard whispers about what had happened at lunch, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand being embarrassment in front of the one person who had ever really showed any interest in him. 

After class had ended, Morrissey quickly packed up his things in an attempt to be out the door before Johnny had the chance to confront him. His speed, however, was of no avail.  
Johnny glided over to Morrissey’s desk where he was clumsily shoving his books into his backpack. 

“Hey...” Johnny said with a hesitant smile.

“Hey” Morrissey replied mechanically, trying not to sound too upset.

Johnny stood there, looking down awkwardly at his feet and waited for Morrissey to finish packing. Morrissey zipped up his bag, which he slung over one shoulder, and started to head for the door.

“Want to do something today?” Johnny followed Morrissey out of the classroom and to the stairs. He’s only saying that because he feels sorry for you, the voice in his head said.

“I don’t know… I have a lot of homework” he said lamely, which was true, though it was rather easy homework that could be completed in probably 20 minutes at most.

“Oh, okay… well, can I give you a ride home then?” Johnny offered with a grin on his face.

Morrissey thought about it for a few moments. He did want to get home and throw himself on his bed as soon as possible, but he also didn’t want to get more attached to Johnny than he already was. Still, there was something about the thought of being back on the smaller boy’s motorbike that felt right to Morrissey. 

“If it’s not too much trouble for you...” Morrissey said timidly.

“Not at all!” Johnny said, punching Morrissey in the arm, a boyish gesture of fondness.

As they walked to the parking lot and to the sleek black motorcycle, a sense of dread came upon Morrissey. Why was Johnny being so nice to him? They had only known each other for two days, after all! Johnny must have witnessed the incident in the cafeteria, there was no doubt about it! The only reason Johnny was still talking to him was because he felt sorry for him.

“What’s wrong? You seem awfully miserably today.” Johnny asked inquisitively.

“Oh…” Morrissey began to wonder if Johnny actually hadn’t seen what had happened at lunch, and considered telling him about the incident but resolved not to. He didn’t want to trouble his new friend with his petty problems. “Nothing, I just had an exhausting day.” Morrissey said, smiling sadly. 

“Well cheer up, misery mozzery!” Johnny exclaimed, patting the taller boy’s bony back. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” The two rode off together onto the foggy road with their immaculate quiffs fluttering violently in the wind.

 

Johnny rolled into the driveway of Morrissey’s house and the beautiful purr of the engine gently died away. Johnny swiftly turned to Morrissey and said, with a hint of hope in his voice, “You sure you can’t do anything today?”

A sudden sense of courage came over Morrissey. He paused for a moment in thought before saying “Well… I guess I don’t have too much homework. Do you want to come in?” 

Johnny grinned that infamous grin that Morrissey had begun to fall more and more in love with every time it shone. “Only if we can listen to all of your records!”

“Of course.” Morrissey laughed. 

As they hopped off the bike and began ascending the aged, white brick stairs of Morrissey’s front door, Johnny broke the pleasant mood. “Oh, hey, I tried looking for you at lunch today! I couldn’t find you though so I went down to the library.”

So he didn’t know about the episode!! He hadn’t seen the utter humiliation he had gone through! “Are you sure you went to the right room?” Morrissey asked, hiding his relief in laughter. 

“Shut it!”Johnny said, shoving him gently and joining in on the laughter. 

When they entered the house, Johnny was immediately drawn to Morrissey’s room. Morrissey thanked God he had had the chance to tidy up his room a few nights before. Johnny looked around the room in appreciative awe. His eyes darted between all of the band posters and memorabilia that had accumulated in the quiffed boy’s small bedroom. 

“Make yourself at home,” Morrissey said, breaking the comfortable silence and tossing his bag next to his nightstand and collapsing onto his ready-made bed. Johnny’s eyes fell on the large collection of records that Morrissey had acquired and he gasped. 

“May I?” Johnny asked, aiming his puppy eyes at Morrissey. 

Morrissey chuckled and nodded, walking over to get a spare pair of glasses from his dresser and returning back to his bed to pull out his homework. Morrissey worked on his homework, occasionally hearing small “oo’s” and “aah’s” as Johnny scanned through all of his vinyls. 

“You sure like 60s girl bands, don’t you?” Johnny said after a while, holding up a single from the Cookies. Morrissey's cheeks reddened. Did Johnny disapprove of his taste in music? 

“It’s a good single!” Morrissey pleaded, “just try listening to it!”

Johnny gave him a skeptical look and began taking the record out of its sleeve. 

“Play the B-side,” Morrissey suggested shyly, “it’s much better than the A-side in my opinion.”

Johnny shrugged and gently placed the needle on the shiny revolving disc, and the cheerful harmonies of “I Want A Boy For My Birthday” reverberated throughout the small room.  
Morrissey subconsciously closed his eyes and began to sing along softly in a low, tender voice. It was only when the song finally ended and he opened his eyes to find Johnny staring at him that he realized he’d been singing the entire time. 

“You’ve got a funny voice” Johnny said, grinning at the radish-colored boy.

“Thank you” Morrissey looked away bashfully, trying to hide the big smile that was growing across his face. Morrissey stared down at the homework he had hardly started for a few moments before closing his notebook and stating “I’m done.”

“Cool, whatcha wanna do now?” Johnny asked.

“Want to watch a movie?” Morrissey suggested.

“Sure, what movie?”

“What do you think about James Dean?”

“Well, I haven’t thought about him too much lately” Johnny replied, smirking coyly. Morrissey rolled his eyes.

 

The two sat in comfortable silence as Morrissey’s Rebel Without A Cause VHS rewinded. “Where’d you get all of these anyway?” Johnny finally said, pointing at Morrissey’s rather large pile of 50s movies. Morrissey looked over his shoulder and shrugged. 

“Thrift shops, I guess. They just sort of materialized.”

The tape suddenly clicked, indicating that the boys could begin their movie. “Got any popcorn?” Johnny said, stretching himself out over the length of the couch and closing his eyes. Morrissey’s eyes subtly trailed across the across the boy’s hospital-thin frame.

“I’ll get it” Morrissey said, getting up off of his place on the floor and walking over to the kitchen. 

Soon the two were chomping down on a big bowl of golden popcorn as the movie began. Morrissey subtly directed his eyes on Johnny, who was watching the film intently. His lips were chapped, as the salt from the popcorn had dried them, and his small, pink tongue occasionally darted out to wet them. Morrissey admired the way his large golden-brown eyes sparkled, reflecting the light from the television. Morrissey felt his intestines tie themselves into a great big knot of desire. Trying to ignore his shameful feelings, he focused his attention back onto the moving screen and reached into the popcorn bowl, which was placed between them on the couch. Subsequently, Johnny also mindlessly reached for the bowl. Their hands brushed slightly and they both immediately recoiled and stared at each other in the darkened living room. Johnny smiled and stuck his hand back into the bowl to shove the fluffy greased balls into his mouth. Morrissey smiled in return shyly, although mentally he was stabbing himself repeatedly with a dull spoon. The sounds of the front being unlocked jolted the boys out of their awkward staring contest. 

“Steven, I’m home! Come help me with these groceries.” Johnny smirked and sunk deeper into the couch in an attempt at remaining unseen by Morrissey’s mother. Morrissey groaned and put his hands to his face.

“Don’t give me any of that!” Betty Dwyer yelled from the kitchen. Johnny clamped both hands over his mouth to stifle his laughter. 

“Shut up, you jerk!” Morrissey said to Johnny, giving him a big shove as he stood up to go help his mother.

“What did you just say to me?! I raised you better than to speak to your own mother that way!! Next time you say something, just remember who’s paying the bills around here!” At this point, any normal person would have thought Johnny to be having convulsions and called an ambulance. 

“MUM! Johnny’s over!! Didn’t you see the bike in the driveway?!” Morrissey yelled, now clambering to the kitchen.

“Johnny?” Betty repeated, and walked over to the living room where Johnny was quickly trying to sit up and compose himself.

“Oh! You must be Johnny!” Betty said heartily “Steven’s told me so much about y--” 

“MUM!!” a red-faced Morrissey interrupted. 

“You shouldn’t yell at your mom, Steven.” Johnny said, adding Morrissey’s first name mockingly. Johnny gave her a polite smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am. Steven has told me a lot about you too -- all good things, don’t worry.” Johnny was, as usual, cool and collected. 

“What a charming young man you are!” 

“Mum, are you flirting with my friend?!” Morrissey said, irritated. 

Johnny’s eyes widened and Betty scoffed.“Steven, why didn’t you tell me we were having a guest over? I would have been back earlier to prepare a big dinner --”

“We’re not staying for dinner,” Morrissey interrupted again, “We were just about to leave. Right Johnny?” Truthfully, Morrissey had only said this to avoid further embarrassment from his mother. His entire day had already been dreadful and he didn’t need his mother to make it even worse.

Morrissey stared expectantly at the seated boy.“Uh... yeah, I’m terribly sorry ma’am,” Johnny said, finally catching on, and he smiled politely to Betty and got up from his place on the couch, “It was great meeting you.”

Morrissey’s mother nodded in agreement. “Glad to see that Steven is finally making some friends --”

“Mum!” Morrissey said through his teeth.

“Okay, okay. Help me get the groceries out of the car and then you two can be on your way.”


	3. Chapter 3

After they had finished helping Betty Dwyer with sorting the groceries out, Morrissey thought about where the two would go. Honestly, he really had no idea where to go. It was the first excuse he could come up with and he just didn’t want his mother to start showing his only friend embarrassing anecdotes about him or maybe even start showing him baby pictures and scaring him away forever. Morrissey supposed a small tour around the town would be sufficient but, in all honesty, he felt that anywhere would do if it meant being around Johnny. There was something about the way the smaller boy looked up at him with those big, golden-brown eyes, and smiled and laughed at his crummy jokes that made him feel like he actually meant something. It seemed ridiculous to him that he had developed such profound feelings for the boy in such as short amount of time, but somehow it felt right. Before he’d met Johnny, the only thing that he could do to keep himself occupied -- besides watching television, reading and writing, or listening to music -- was walking. Morrissey would walk for hours to nowhere in particular through drizzle or radiating sunshine, simply letting himself lose track of time and all of his troubles. He wondered what it would be like to share this way of tranquility with Johnny.

“So where are we going anyway? I hope we’re getting food because we just passed up an opportunity for a hot meal, y’know.” Johnny said as he got his bag from Morrissey’s bedroom.

Morrissey leaned into the doorway and puckered his lips in thought.

“I don’t know, I just wanted to get out the house for a little while” Morrissey said frankly, “want to drive around for a bit?”

“Yup!” Johnny chirped, and they strolled out of the house and into the foggy outdoors together.

After ordering take-out from the diner, the two eventually wound up sitting under an iron bridge which overlooked a strong, raging green river, taking shelter from the rain. They ate greedily, talked about nothing that really mattered, and simply enjoyed each other’s presence. Occasionally, Morrissey would lose himself staring into the distance and trying to pinpoint the exact spot in which the fog finally enveloped the horizon completely. 

“So how are you liking it here?” Morrissey asked, “meet any cute gu -- girls yet?” he added, trying to be nonchalantly heterosexual, although he really had no clue how to.

“A few” Johnny said, grinning a little to himself. Moz tried not to look too disappointed, but inside he was deflating exponentially. “I don’t know,” Johnny continued, “I’ve never lived in a small town before. My mother made us move here because the company she works at wanted to expand outward or somethin’ and they needed someone down here and they -- it’s complicated,” he sighed, “ and I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

“No, it’s fine.” 

“So, yeah -- I ended up here. I’m practically living alone though, my mother is always at work.” Although he was facing away from him, Morrissey could sense some sadness in the air. “On the bright side, I can host as many house parties as I want,” he said, trying to better the atmosphere between them with some dry humour. They sat there for a few moments, neither of them knowing what to say or do. Morrissey could tell that Johnny was feeling somewhat sad and he really wanted to comfort him by embracing him in a big, warm hug and tell him that everything was okay, but he was afraid that would be extremely weird. He just nodded sympathetically and hummed a little as he returned his gaze back to the flowing river.

“What about you? Your mum seems like a nice lady.” Morrissey groaned and rolled his eyes, making Johnny giggle a little. “I like her.”

“Then you can have her” Morrissey retorted. Johnny giggled even more and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Dude! Gross!” Morrissey laughed, and he shoved Johnny’s shoulder and Johnny shoved back. “Anyway, she’s the local librarian.”

“Oh, really? Is that why you’re such a big nerd? I bet you got the glasses gene from her!” Johnny howled and pushed Morrissey’s glasses up with his finger.

Morrissey swatted his hand away and laughed, “Shut up!” 

 

The next day, Morrissey was more than a little nervous for lunch, not because he was going to be with Johnny -- although he was always generally nervous around him -- but because as soon as he entered the cafeteria, he remembered the humiliation Mike and Andy had put him through. He anxiously scanned the room for any threats before switching his search to his best friend. 

“Moz!” came a familiar voice through the swarm of people. 

“Johnny!” Morrissey smiled in relief. 

“Where do you want to sit?” Johnny asked after they had finally made their way to each other. They settled for a mostly empty bench near the back of the lunch room. Before Morrissey had met Johnny, he’d never ate lunch, but instead went to the library to read along with all of the other loaners in the school. Being with Johnny was something completely foreign to him. He felt the sort of happiness that religious people might consider sinful. 

“Are you eating?” Johnny asked as he got his own lunch out of his brown paper bag and placed its contents on the table.

“Oh...no,” Morrissey said, blushing a little. 

“Why not?” Johnny asked in a concerned tone, as if his not eating lunch was the equivalent of starving himself for months.

“I’m just not hungry -- it’s really fine,” Morrissey said nonchalantly, because it really was fine. He’d gotten so used to replacing his hunger with his angsty teenage thoughts that he really never ate that much. 

“No, you’re all skin and bones! You’ve gotta eat,”Johnny exclaimed.

“Skin and bones? Have you ever looked in a mirror?” Morrissey laughed. Johnny, ignoring his retort, slid a few items of food across to Morrissey’s side of the table.

“I’m serious, have some of my food. I packed way too much anyway.”

“But Johnny, I --” "Shh!" Johnny interrupted, and shoved an apple wedge into his mouth. Morrissey succumbed to Johnny’s efforts and he gingerly accepted the container of yogurt he had been offered. 

“Thank you,” Morrissey’s small voice came before he himself shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth. The two chatted lightheartedly for the rest of their meal.

However, the sudden threat of Mike and Andy soon loomed over his mind again when he spotted them leaning against the wall across the room, sniveling at him menacingly. His breath caught in his throat and he visibly tensed. “Hey, Moz!” Morrissey was snapped out of his thoughts by Johnny who was eyeing him with concern. “Moz, are you okay?” Johnny asked with slight trepidation and looked over his shoulder where Morrissey had been staring. “Are they causing you trouble?” Johnny directed his gaze back to his friend who lowered his own eyes, seemingly embarrassed. 

“It’s fine…” was his unconvincing reply. Johnny looked again at Mike and Andy as they strolled out of the cafeteria, laughing with each other. 

“If they’re bugging you, you can always tell me,” he said sympathetically. “If they want to get to you, they’ll have to go through me first.” Morrissey’s heart fluttered. As soon as those words left this divine lips, he felt safe. He smiled timidly and thanked his best friend. 

The bell rang, indicating their time to separate, which depressed Morrissey immensely, although he knew he would see Johnny again at the end of the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about how defensive Johnny had gotten over him. Was it because he felt sorry for him? Or did Johnny genuinely care about him? Morrissey smiled to himself at the thought. He wasn't afraid of Mike or Andy anymore, now that he knew Johnny, his knight in shining leather, would protect him.

 

After a painfully long rest of the day, it was finally time for 6th period. He walked in eager to see his best friend again -- that was until he noticed him with Angie, one of the school’s sluts, bending across his desk and practically pouring her womanhood all over him. The two of them were both equally engaged in their conversation. Morrissey was so utterly enraged, he could have bashed every tooth in her head. Why did he always get so jealous whenever someone other than himself got too close to Johnny? He had to remind himself that they weren’t dating and that Johnny hadn’t given any indication that they were anything more than just friends. Morrissey took his seat and pretended not to notice how close they were or the way they looked into each other’s eyes as they talked. 

For the rest of the period, Morrissey forced himself not to look at Johnny. For some childish reason, he felt hurt and betrayed, as if Johnny knew about his feelings for him and had intentionally tried to break his fragile heart by flirting with Angie. God, what an idiot he was. Johnny had only ever shown interest in women, so what made him think he still had a chance at becoming his? He sighed to himself quietly and got out his school work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I'm actually quite happy with how the story is coming along. I know this chapter was a little short but I'm hoping I'll be able to upload another chapter within the week.


	4. Chapter 4

The two continued to meet up every day after school. They would walk together to the parking lot after class and go to Morrissey’s house to work on homework or listen to music or watch a movie, then they’d get some food either from the diner or Betty Dwyer, and finally spend the rest of their day talking and enjoying each other’s presence under their iron bridge. Morrissey felt he was actually becoming relatively valuable to Johnny. He felt warm when he was held in Johnny’s gaze and he cherished every accidental brush or shove shared between them. He hadn’t been having much trouble with Mike or Andy, although they would still give him disgusted looks when they saw each other throughout the school. They didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore and that made him feel great. Angie still persisted in trying to seduce Johnny with her rather large cleavage. He talked to her, much to Morrissey’s dismay, but seemed less interested in her than when he first caught them talking. For once in his life, he thought that he could be genuinely happy; that was if only he wasn’t in love with his best friend!

 

“Are you going to the football game tonight?” Johnny asked one day, strolling over to Morrissey’s desk after class had ended.

“Oh... I don’t usually go to the games,” Morrissey admitted gingerly. 

“Why not?” Johnny laughed.

Morrissey felt his face heat up and he looked down at his hands which were shoving his supplies into his plain blue backpack. “Oh, I dunno.”

Johnny smiled and started to walk to the door. “Alright, it’s settled; you’re coming to the game with me tonight.”

It took a moment for his words to process inside Morrissey’s mind before he was stumbling after the black-leather clad boy saying “Wait, what?!” 

The boys headed to the parking lot with Morrissey trailing behind. He, after making sure Johnny wasn’t watching, smiled to himself in pleasure. More time to be with Johnny? Yes!!  
“Oh!” Johnny said suddenly, turning around on the smooth, leather seat of his bike to face Morrissey. “Is it okay if I bring Angie along too? She practically begged me to take her and I had to agree,” he huffed. 

Morrissey’s smile immediately faltered, and he let out a miserable “sure”. Why did Johnny invite him to the game if he was just going to be with Angie the entire time? Maybe he was only bringing him along to be his wingman. He felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and anger. Of course! Johnny was obviously exclusively into women. 

“Cool!” Johnny said and he turned around to start his bike.

“Do you think you can just drop me home? I’ve got loads of homework and you probably need to get ready for your date, don’t you?” Morrissey tried to smile coyly, but cringed when he heard a note of jealousy in his voice.

“Yeah, you got it,” Johnny said and they drove off together. 

 

Morrissey spent the remainder of the day laying on his bed staring up at his ceiling, and imagining different scenarios that he knew would never happen. He imagined how it would feel to have Johnny's thin arm snake itself around his own tiny waist, with his small fingers brushing lightly across his hipbone. His eyes fluttered shut and his belly filled up with butterflies (or was it wasps?) as he thought about the taste those delicate chapped lips pressing themselves against his. He felt so utterly pathetic and dirty for even daring to imagine such things, after all, Johnny was obviously straight and entirely different in every other aspect compared to himself. Morrissey groaned and rolled over to press his red face into his pillow. Maybe he should just call Johnny and tell him that he had too much homework to do or that he felt very ill and couldn’t make it to the game. Morrissey groaned and rolled himself over again onto his side and rubbed his worried head with his hand. No, he couldn’t do that. Johnny would surely know that he was lying and automatically assume that it was because he was uncomfortable with him being around Angie. He had to go to the game to prove to Johnny that he didn't mind who he was with -- which, in truth, was the absolute opposite of how he felt. 

Morrissey was snapped out of his miserable mind by the sound of the front door shutting. He sighed and got up to greet his mother whom he hoped would distract him from his troubles and ask her for a ride to the game.

“Steven, I'm home” Betty called from the kitchen where she always seemed to be. “Come down here and help me prepare dinner.” 

“Coooming!” Morrissey replied as he descended the stairs. 

“No Johnny today?” Betty said, raising her eyebrows at her son who walked passed her to begin setting the table. 

“No, he's off getting ready for his… date,” Morrissey said bitterly. 

“Ohh! A date! With whom?” Betty asked nosily.

“Just some… girl. Why do you even care?” Morrissey retorted, a little too harshly. 

“Steven! Why are you acting so moody? It was a simple question.” Morrissey sighed and looked down at his feet. 

“Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, I don't know what's up with me today.” Betty smiled sympathetically at her troubled son and ushered him to a chair at the dining room table. He complied obediently and she took a seat next to him. 

“Steven, are you jealous?” she asked seriously. 

“No, of course not! Why would I be?” Morrissey laughed nervously. Betty smiled at him knowingly and he immediately dropped his act. “Yes, I am,” he admitted. “How long have you known about my… crush?” His face grew red as he spoke. He knew he could talk to his mother about anything but he'd always avoided engaging in conversations about his love life, which was practically nonexistent until only recently, and sexuality, though he was sure that she already knew he was gay. 

“When I first met him,” she said making Morrissey flush even more, “who wouldn't be in love with that boy? he's so charming!” 

“Now /you're/ making me jealous” he laughed. “But really mum, what am I supposed to do? He asked me to go to the game with him tonight. I like him so much, ” he said shyly. “but now he's invited Angie to go to the game too. I just don't know what to do,” he said defeatedly. 

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same way about you? Steven, you know how that girl is, always forcing herself on people. From what I've seen, he doesn't seem like the kind of kid to fall for someone like that. You on the other hand, are something else. I've seen the way you two act together: hand in glove!” 

“Mum! You're just saying that!” 

“That's what mothers are for, hunny!” she said fondly and ruffled her son's hair. 

 

Morrissey’s mother dropped him off at school that night, and he waddled awkwardly away towards the entrance of the football field where he was supposed to meet up with Johnny and Angie. He still felt extremely hurt that Johnny had abandoned him for Angie. The air was cool and it had already begun to drizzle. Within the roaring crowd of people in line at the ticket stand, Morrissey immediately recognized Angie’s ear-piercing laughter. “Right on time!” Johnny exclaimed and pat Morrissey hard on the back when he reached them. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Morrissey said with a small smile. They bought their tickets and found some seats at the top of the bleachers. Morrissey couldn’t help but notice how close Angie was sitting next to his friend; she was practically on his lap. Thankfully, one of her friends had also shown up to the game and loosened her grip on him a little after some time. Morrissey sat nervously on the hard seat next to Johnny and pretended to pay attention to the game. He felt worse than he did when he was in his room, alone with his unrealistic fantasies. /That’s it,/ he thought to himself, /things are going to change from now on. No more thinking, particularly about Johnny. You’re gonna let your friendship, because that is all it will ever be, fade away. You can’t keep torturing yourself by being near him everyday. Mum doesn’t know what she’s talking about, we don’t go hand in glove; we’re complete opposites of each other; Johnny was funny, charming, and a hundred percent heterosexual. What would someone like Johnny want with someone like him?/ He felt as though he was on the verge of tears, and he certainly want to cry in front of Johnny and make himself seem even more pathetic. 

“I’m gonna get something to eat,” he announced.

“Don’t take too long,” Johnny called to him as he began to quickly begin his descent down the stairs. 

He stood behind a concession stand, where he was sure he was out of Johnny’s line of sight, and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He felt like he didn’t belong here, especially since Johnny was so utterly infatuated with Angie in her friend and had seemingly completely forgotten about him. He was disgusted with himself for wanting Johnny to look at him the way he did Angie. Morrissey, who was shaking from both the cold and his inexpressible desire to be with Johnny, willed himself not to cry in front of the swarm of people surrounding him. After a few more gulps of cool air, he skimmed through the faces in the crowd in an attempt to distract himself from his emotional torment. The attempt, though, immediately failed as soon as he laid eyes upon Mike and Andy who were staring at him and coming dangerously closer with every step. 

“Never thought I’d see you here, Steve. Whatcha doin’ here, huh?” 

“That’s none of your business, Mike. Now leave me alone.” Morrissey said, trying to quickly return back to the safety of his friend. 

“Not so fast, fag. I told you to remember where we left off, and well, I’ve got an excellent memory. Why don’t we go for a little walk?” Mike said with an insidious smile growing across his face. The next thing he knew, Morrissey felt the pressure of a cool blade against his back, and was being led out of the arena with Mike and Andy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than expected. Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments, they really mean so much to me. I'm very proud with how this story is going and I hope to upload another chapter over winter break if not this week.


	5. Chapter 5

Johnny impatiently waited for his friend to return while the girls around him pretended to understand what was happening in the game. He sighed and rose to his feet. “I’m gonna go see what’s holding Moz up,” he announced to the girls and descended the stairs of the bleachers. What was taking him so long? Johnny reached the concession stands and saw no sign of his friend. That was until he noticed the two boys that had been causing Morrissey trouble the first week of school laughing and twirling around a pair of broken glasses that shared a remarkable resemblance to the pair Morrissey had been wearing that night. A sense of dread fell upon Johnny as he watched the boys re-enter the football stadium.

“Hey!” Johnny shouted, confronting the two boys who eyed him curiously. 

“What do you want, fag-lover?” Mike said, a glimmer of hatred in his kooky grin.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You don’t know?” Mike gasped, feigning shock, “that kid you’ve been hanging around with -- Steven Morrissey -- he’s a poof!”

“So fucking what if he is? What does that have to do with anything?” Johnny yelled, clenching his fists in subconscious anger. 

“Jeez, why are you getting so defensive over a fucking queer? What, are you his boyfriend or something?” Mike threateningly accused, walking closer to Johnny. 

“Of course not!” Johnny insisted, his breath hitching.

“Hey man, I’m just trying to look out for you, you seem like a good kid. If you keep hanging around that fag, eventually he'll try to turn you into one of them -- that is… if you're not one already.” 

“Just tell me what the fuck you did to Moz!”

“Moz? Already giving each other pet names I see,” Mike laughed.

“Fucking tell me!” Johnny shouted, ignoring Mike's comment and shoving him hard.

“We did nothing he didn't deserve,” Mike teased. 

“You bastard!” he cried before rushing Mike and tackling him to the concrete floor and smashed his fist into the other boy’s face repeatedly and, despite his small frame, he packed quite a punch.

“Leave him the fuck alone!” Andy hastily grabbed at Johnny, who was pinning Mike on the ground, pulling out some of his hair and dragging him off the now bloodied Mike. Johnny harshly ripped himself out of Andy’s grasp, pushing the blonde boy to the ground, and quickly darted out of the stadium, although not quite knowing where he was going, leaving the two boys still dazed by the outburst.

 

There was no tangible reason why Johnny decided to start his search for Morrissey at the iron bridge, after all, it was miles away from both the school and his house and the rain was particularly harsh that night. It would have seemed more likely that Morrissey had simply walked back to his mother’s house; yet Johnny still had the feeling that Morrissey was there, at their special place. 

Johnny rolled up to their cherished iron bridge and shut off his purring engine with trepidation when he saw no sign of his friend. The rain was beating hard upon him and he quickly sloshed through the rain and mud to take shelter under the bridge. As he entered, he heard the unmistakable sound of whimpering.

“Moz?” Johnny asked, his voice wavering. The cries continued, but there was no reply. “Moz, what’s wrong?” Johnny came closer to the direction the sounds were emanating. As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he saw the outline of Morrissey perched atop a rock, and he sighed in relief. 

“Moz, what the hell are you doing here? I looked for you everywhere; you scared me half to death! Why did you --” Johnny’s eyes grew more accustomed to the lack of light and he noticed that Morrissey’s face was darkened with blood and tears, which gleamed in the moonlight reflected by the river. “Jesus!” He immediately ran to the boy’s side and frantically examined his badly battered face. “Moz, look at me!” he yelled at his friend, who seemed to be in some sort of trance. Johnny placed a gentle hand on his face, careful to avoid the bruises on his pale skin, “Moz, please tell me what happened!”

“I -- I was just… a-at the game and … t-they just c-came up to me and… ” The tears in Morrissey’s eyes returned and he bent his head to sob again. Johnny carefully pulled his cold shaking frame into a warm embrace and Morrissey accepted it, pressing himself deeper into the other boy's warm chest. He already knew who he was talking about. He felt a mixture of anger and guilt. He knew Mike and Andy were trouble, but he did nothing to stop them from harming his friend. He told Morrissey he would protect him, but just look at him now: his beautiful face pulverized. Johnny’s own eyes began to welt up with moisture. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered mindlessly, almost as if he was saying it more to comfort himself rather than Morrissey. He pressed Morrissey more into him but immediately withdrew when he heard the boy whimper. “Moz, you have to go to the hospital --” 

“No!” Morrissey interrupted, clutching at Johnny’s shirt. “Please! I don’t want to go!”

“I have to take you home then!” 

“Johnny, please don’t drop me home!!” he sobbed, putting his face back into Johnny’s chest. “Please, I’m begging you Johnny!!” 

Johnny huffed at the boy’s stubbornness, but after some thought gave in. “Okay, okay. But you’ve got to let me treat your injuries. Let me do this for you Moz, please.” Morrissey looked up at him with soft blue eyes and hesitantly nodded. “C’mon, let’s get to my house,” he said, gently helping Morrissey’s weak, battered body up. The rain had calmed down a little but it was still ever-present. Johnny, noticing how much Morrissey was shaking, took off his leather jacket and compassionately set it on Morrissey’s quaking shoulders. He gingerly accepted and tightened it around himself, instantly enjoying the warmth and smell surrounding him. When they’d climbed out from under the bridge, Johnny helped Morrissey get atop his bike. Morrissey winced in pain with every movement of his torso, filling Johnny with even more guilt and hatred. “Hold onto me,” he said and he felt Morrissey’s delicate hands wrap themselves around his own thin waist.

 

“C’mon in, Moz," Johnny said tenderly as he ushered Morrissey's shaking body into his house. Morrissey, tears still rolling down his face and struggling to steady his breath, avoided eye contact with Johnny and shuffled inside. Johnny could tell that Morrissey was in pain from the extensive beating based on the way he kept clutching at his side and cringed when he moved. He led him towards the bathroom where he sat him down on the toilet seat, and gave him a towel and ordered him to remove his soaking clothes as he trudged upstairs to retrieve dry clothes loose enough to fit Morrissey's tall frame. He returned to find Morrissey sobbing quietly again into his hands and having taken all his clothes off except for a pair of black skin-tight boxer briefs, his soaking wet New York Dolls t-shirt and the towel which he enveloped himself in tightly. Johnny knelt beside him and rubbed his back in soothing circles. 

"Moz, I've brought you some clothes," he said, indicating the biggest pair of sweatpants he had and a woolen sweater that his mother had made a few sizes too big. Besides his trembling shoulders, Morrissey didn’t move, and simply continued to cry. Johnny placed a palm on Morrissey's cheek, carefully avoiding the dark bruises and raw cuts on his face, to try wiping away the steady stream of tears coming from his friend's sad blue eyes. "Moz... do you want me to call you mother? Do you want to go to a hospital?" At that, Morrissey's eyes immediately shot up and sought out Johnny's soft golden ones, imploring him not to. 

"I don't want her to see me like this, I want to stay here Johnny!" he pleaded in a hoarse, cracking voice which was sore from all the crying.

"It's okay," Johnny leaned in to give Morrissey a reassuring hug, "you don't have to go anywhere." Morrissey lowered his miserable eyes. 

"Thank you," he said in a small feeble voice, and Johnny smiled sadly in return. 

"Now, why don't you dry off and get changed so I can take care of those cuts, hmm?" he said, getting up. Morrissey nodded weakly and took the clothes from Johnny's arms. "You can leave your clothes on the floor. I'm going to make us some tea, okay?" 

"Okay," Morrissey replied mechanically as he fidgeted with the fabric while patiently waiting for Johnny to leave the room. He heard the door shut softly and closed his eyes. He put his hand on his face where Johnny's had been and sighed, longing for the boy’s warmth and touch against his cheek again. 

 

As he waited for Morrissey to get changed, Johnny changed himself into dry clothing and set the kettle to boil. He stood there in the kitchen, silently pacing and thinking about all that had transpired, and placed an ashamed palm to his guilt-ridden face. He should have been there for Morrissey, but instead he was off with some girl he didn’t even like. He hated how broken the boy seemed when he’d looked up at him with those pitiful eyes, filled with agony and misery. All he wanted to do was comfort him, wrap his arms around his friend’s shaking body, kiss his trembling lips, make him forget about all the pain and trouble that Johnny had ignorantly allowed to happen. He was going to make things right again; he had to. Johnny heard the bathroom door open and shut gently, and took a few deep breaths and wiped the moisture that had accumulated in his honey brown eyes. 

“The kettle’s almost boiled. You can take a seat on the couch and wait for me if you’d like,” Johnny called from the kitchen. He went into the bathroom, dug around for the first-aid kit, and collected Morrissey’s soaking wet clothing and tossed them in the dryer in the laundry room. When he was finished, the kettle had boiled and he greeted Morrissey, who was stiffly sitting on the couch, with piping hot mug of tea. “Here, take these,” Johnny said, handing Morrissey, who once again looked to be in the middle of a daydream, three orange pills. “They’re painkillers,” Johnny clarified sympathetically, and took a seat next to his friend. 

“Thank you,” he replied lifelessly and took them with a few gulps of his tea before setting the cup down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Moz…” Johnny started after a few moments of excruciating silence, “Moz, you’ve got to let me help you if you don’t want to go to the hospital. Please let me make it up to you.” Morrissey closed his eyes for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding. Johnny immediately began to unbox the first-aid kit, pulling out some band-aids, cotton balls and disinfectant. Most of the blood from the cuts on Morrissey’s face had been washed away by the rain, but Johnny needed to be sure that his wounds would heal properly. “This is going to sting a little,” he warned as he started to dab a damp cotton ball over his cuts. 

“Ahh,” Morrissey hissed at the dull pain.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Johnny said understandingly and gently blew on the cuts in an attempt to soothe the pain. It was only when Johnny reached Morrissey’s split lip that he realized how little distance there was between him and Morrissey’s cool, alabaster skin, and he wondered what would happen if he leaned in just a little close and pressed his lips against his soft, pale friend’s. He quickly discarded the thought, thinking it to be absolutely shameful because he felt Morrissey wouldn’t welcome his embrace. Why would Morrissey ever want to be his friend, let alone his boyfriend, after how he’d failed to look out for him? 

After Johnny had finished cleaning and bandaging most of the noticeable wounds on the boy’s face, it came time to assess the damage done to the rest of his body.  
“Will you take off your sweater?” Johnny asked softly. “So I can see how badly you’re hurt,” he added quickly after seeing the look of horror that swept over Morrissey’s face, although it was unknown to him how whether he was afraid because he thought Johnny had just made a sexual advancement or because the harm done to his torso was so great he wanted to keep it hidden from him. Morrissey played with the hem of the oversized sweater than Johnny had lent him, considering whether or not he should comply with Johnny’s request, before slowly lifting the clothing and revealing bruises, their colors ranging all the way from sickening yellow and deep purple to blue and black, splaying all along his stomach and ribcage like spilt ink.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny said, his voice cracking and his hands darting out to reach for his broken friend’s face. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he lowered his gaze in shame and shook his head. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Morrissey replied, trying to relieve the boy’s unnecessarily guilty feelings.

“No, it was! I should have been there for you, Moz! I told you I would protect you but now look at you!” Johnny felt his vision go blurry with tears again. “I was so worried, Moz… I just--” He couldn’t help himself any longer. Without a second thought, he smashed his quivering lips against Morrissey’s and allowed himself to get lost in the wet warmth of the kiss. He could feel Morrissey hesitate, his lips unmoving, and lean back slightly before succumbing and kissing back harder and more zealously. They stayed this way, both passionately locking their lips together, until Morrissey began to whimper in pain. His split lip had begun to bleed again and Johnny found himself pressing into Morrissey’s injured body, practically straddling him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Johnny cried, recoiling immediately and pushing himself to the far side of the couch. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this -- I don’t want to hurt you even more.”

“It’s okay,” Morrissey panted, “more than okay, in fact,” he added, smiling shyly. Johnny smiled in return and cautiously scooted back to Morrissey. Morrissey intertwined their fingers gingerly and laughed as he caught his breath. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this to happen.” Johnny giggled and gently pressed his head against Morrissey’s.

“Me too,” he admitted shamelessly. 

“Does this mean… we’re together?” Morrissey asked a little too excitedly, looking up hopefully with soft blue eyes, darkened with lust.

“It can mean anything you’d like it to mean.” Johnny pressed light kisses on Morrissey’s face, carefully avoiding his wounds, though he did it more for his own comfort than for Morrissey’s, and his smile grew even wider. Morrissey felt himself nestle into the crook in Johnny’s neck and pressed a faint kiss on his collarbone. He gave a heavy sigh of relief and hummed in a low voice. Johnny recognized the tune as “I Want A Boy For My Birthday” and chuckled fondly at the memory of the two in Morrissey’s bedroom, only a few weeks ago, and the awkward sexual tension shared between them. “Today must be your birthday then, hmm?” Johnny said playfully.

“Mhmm,” Morrissey purred sleepily, the painkillers already taking their effect on him, and smiled into the boy’s neck.

“Do you want me to get something for those bruises?” Johnny said, once again concerned. Morrissey seemed fine at the moment, but the painkillers would eventually fade and the pain would return even worse than before.

“Uh-uh... don’ go,” he slurred, “yer s’warm.”

“That’s why I made you this giant mug of tea,” he laughed fondly, “I’ll go find some pain-relief cream for you, I’ll be right back,” Johnny insisted and, much to Morrissey’s dismay, got up after tenderly laying Morrissey across the couch and stealing a kiss from the drugged boy.

He returned to find Morrissey dozing off and smiled to himself. 

“Hey…” Johnny whispered tenderly, gently shaking Morrissey awake. “C’mon sleepyhead, I need to apply this stuff." Morrissey whined and hid his face with his arms. Johnny took this as a sign of permission and he lifted the boy’s sweater. “This is going to feel a little cool,” he said, although he was unsure if Morrissey could even feel anything besides the numbness caused by the drugs. As if to answer his question, Morrissey grunted in pain as Johnny lathered the cream on his bruises as lightly as he could. Johnny grabbed one of Morrissey’s hands and squeezed compassionately. “It’s alright, I’m almost done babe.” He clutched Johnny’s hand tighter when he reached the more painful spots and small tears began to roll down his cheeks, which he quickly wiped away with his sleeve. “That’s it babe, you did a good job,” he smiled fondly up at the boy and slowly pulling the sweater back down his skeletal body. 

“Do you want to sleep here on the couch? or would you rather sleep in a bed?” he asked, still clutching Morrissey’s hand. 

“I wan’ be wif you,” he slurred in reply.

“Bedroom it is,” Johnny chuckled.

“Johnny, wait,” Morrissey said suddenly, grasping at Johnny’s thin white t-shirt. “You should call my mum… she’ll be worried if I don’... come home…” he mumbled, trying desperately to form coherent sentences and stay awake. 

“Don’t worry, Moz, I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait…” he said again, “...can you… I don’ wan’ her t’know about… y’know.”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell her something else. Now stand up -- I’d carry you to bed if you weren’t so damn long.” Johnny guided the stumbling Morrissey up the stairs to Johnny’s bedroom where he nervously looked around with bleary eyes at the dark room. He noticed a few boxes cluttered in the corner of the room and not much else. It lacked any sort of character which his own room displayed. “Come.” Johnny called, patting the bed like an owner summoning his pet, and Morrissey jumped in eager to get some rest. “You go to sleep, I’ll be right back,”

“Hurry up!” Morrissey said groggily. 

Johnny padded downstairs to the telephone and looked up Morrissey’s mother’s number in the phonebook. 

“Hello?” the woman’s voice came, sounding slightly worried. 

“Yes, hello Ms. Dwyer, this is Johnny and I --”

“Oh Johnny!” she interrupted, “ I’m so glad you called. It’s quite late,” she said and Johnny glanced at the clock on the stove. It was nearly 11 pm! “I’ve been so worried about my Steven, he didn’t come home tonight! Is he with you?”

“Yes… that’s why I was calling actually. Y’see, there was… an accident at the game and --”

“AN ACCIDENT?” she interrupted abruptly again. “Is Steven alright?”

“Well… he sort of fell down the bleachers and hurt himself a little.”

“MY BABY’S HURT?! Why didn’t you take him home? Is he in the hospital?”

“He insisted he didn’t want to go to the hospital, and… well, my house was closer and he was hurting pretty bad so I wanted to get him here fast to treat his injuries. He’s alright now, I gave him some painkillers and he fell asleep right away. I just wanted to let you know that he’s here and he’s safe.”

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for that him, Johnny. Shall I come pick him up and get that clumsy boy out of your hair?”

“No, no, it’s no trouble at all. Like I said before, he’s fast asleep and I don’t want to wake him, he’s had a rough day.”

“I understand,” she sighed.

“I’ll just drop him home in the morning tomorrow. If that’s okay with you, that is…”

“Yes. Oh Johnny, I can’t thank you enough! I don’t understand how that boy could survive without you. You’re truly his guardian angel.” Johnny blushed at her praise and looked down shyly, despite knowing she couldn’t see the embarrassment on his face through the phone. They exchanged their goodnights and Johnny quietly returned to his bedroom, expecting Morrissey to be asleep. He opened the door as quietly as he could, but ended up making a cringe-worthily loud creak, causing Morrissey to stir. 

“Sorry,” Johnny said as he slid under the warm covers and snuggled up against Morrissey. “Did I wake you?” Johnny whispered into his messy hair, still damp from the rain. He smelled of hairspray and a tinge of coconut shampoo. 

Morrissey shook his head which was pressed against Johnny’s shoulder and said, “I was waitin’ fer you.” Johnny kissed Morrissey’s forehead sweetly and chuckled in contentment. 

“Well I’m here now.” Morrissey closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into Johnny, enjoying the warmth and general closeness shared between them. “Goodnight.” Their breaths slowed down and they drifted off to sleep together in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm the worst at updating. It's finally here though! I just got back from winter break and I wrote a ton of stuff instead of spending precious time with my family, you're welcome fellas! My New Year's resolution is to start updating at a consistent rate instead of posting these random outpours. I'm hoping to add at least two more chapters to the story. Thank you guys so much for putting up with this, I appreciate all of your adorable comments!!


	6. Chapter 6

Morrissey awoke the next morning feeling cold and alone. He blindly reached across the bed, searching for Johnny’s warmth and presence. When he felt nothing but the cool, white sheets, he groggily opened his eyes and his thick brows knitted together in confusion. Where had Johnny gone? Was everything that happened last night just another one of his fantasies? No, it couldn’t have been -- the walls around him were plain, and the smell of Johnny lingered on the bedcovers that surrounded him. He pressed his face deeper into the pillow and smiled to himself, enjoying the scent of his friend. The minutes ticked by and still Morrissey saw, heard, and felt no sign of Johnny. Grumpy from both the absence of his friend and from the beams of light, which had begun to leak through the blinds, hitting his face, he tried sitting up but immediately gave up as even the slightest movement brought tremors of pain throughout his abdomen. Morrissey groaned in pain as he slowly laid his aching back down and sighed, recalling the turmoil that had occurred prior to the boys’ heartfelt kiss. His loathing for both Andy and Mike was something that was beyond the literary realm, but he had to admit that without their attack, he wouldn’t have gotten to spend this much time and closeness with Johnny. Johnny likely wouldn’t even have worked up the courage to finally relieve themselves of the romantic tension they shared without Andy and Mike taking advantage of his vulnerability. 

The door gently creaked open and Johnny’s hairy head popped into the room. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, tiptoeing over to Morrissey and kneeling by his bedside. “You feeling better?” he asked, noticing the look of hurt come across his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll grab some more medicine for you really quick.”

“Thank you,” Morrissey squeaked, looking up at him with soft, grateful eyes. 

“Don’t move,” Johnny said slyly, and gave Morrissey a small peck on the forehead.

As quickly as he had left, he returned carrying a glass of water and two pills. “Let me help you up,” he said, beginning the painful process of helping Morrissey sit up enough to take the pills. Morrissey gave a great big sigh after taking the pills and finishing his glass of water, and leaned back against the headrest of the bed. 

“Come back to bed,” Morrissey said softly. He was already feeling his injuries grow numb from the drugs, and he longed for the warmth of Johnny’s body against his own fragile one.

“I have to give you your surprise first!” Johnny smirked, darting back out of the room before Morrissey even had the chance to think about his statement. Opening the door wide with his foot, he re-entered the bedroom carrying a large tray littered with all sorts of food. 

Morrissey gasped in excitement and shouted, “Johnny! You shouldn’t have!”

“I wanted to. Plus, you need all the food your skinny body can get, Mr. Skin and Bones,” he replied with a large smile on his face and he laid the tray gently across Morrissey’s lap. On the tray, there lay an array of all of Morrissey’s favorite foods. There was a hot dish full of steaming pancakes stacked up high and covered with berries and syrup. Next to the pancakes was a medium sized bowl overflowing with sliced oranges and apples and strawberries and a small tub of vanilla yoghurt. Alongside the fruit there lay a tall mug of warm peppermint tea, its sharp smell making its way through Morrissey’s nostrils and filling his senses with pleasure. Morrissey’s eyes lifted and settled on Johnny’s warm, chocolatey gaze. All Morrissey could do was smile and shake his head lovingly at all the effort Johnny bad put into serving him breakfast in bed. 

“Lay down with me and help me eat all this -- I can’t finish of of it all on my own!” 

“Your wish is my command,” Johnny laughed and eagerly flung himself onto the bed, nearly causing all the food he’d so delicately prepared to fly into the air, and slid under the covers, immediately welcomed by Morrissey’s warmth. The two finished breakfast as slowly as they could, not wanting to have to leave the coziness of Johnny’s bed and for Morrissey to go home. Their pleasant small talk and laughter faded and it came time for them to address the questions they knew they both had. 

“Johnny…” Morrissey started, struggling to formulate the right words, “are we… are we b-boyfriends?” he stuttered, still not knowing whether it was true or not.

“Only if you’d want me.”

“Johnny… I - I want you with all of my heart,” he breathed with quivering lips. The love and gratitude he felt for Johnny was beyond anything that he could ever say or do. Johnny had saved him from himself, from his natural tendency of self-imposed isolation and indifference to others, and he was the only person who could make him feel as though he were genuinely significant in someone else’s life. The thought of the tenderness and compassion Johnny had showed him the previous night sent shivers down his spine and made his head feel like it were soaring high up in the endless sky. “I… I think I love you,” he finally uttered after a few moments of deep thought. Johnny shifted into a sitting position and placed a palm on his face, tenderly rubbing his cheek with a calloused thumb, and smiled that infamous smile of his. 

“I love you too, Moz... from the very moment you came up to me, I knew deep down that I was hooked,” he looked sadly into Morrissey’s big blue eyes, “although, it took you being attacked by those fucking bastards for me to realize how much you meant to me and how much of an idiot I had been for not telling you how much I really cared sooner. God, I never want anything like that happen to you again. I love you so fucking much Moz, you mean the everything to me… and when I saw you there, under our bridge, so vulnerable and defeated, I just -- my life nearly fell apart right in front of me! I swear to God, Moz, I will never let anyone touch you ever again. And if I ever see any of those fucking lowlives near you, I promise I will beat the living hell out of them.” Morrissey felt the moisture begin to form in his eyes and cursed himself for always getting so emotional. “I love you so much and I want the entire world to know it. And if the people stare, then the people stare -- I really don't know and I really don't care as long as that means being with you.”

“Oh Johnny!” Morrissey cried, and he desperately smashed their lips together. Johnny kissed back with the same amount of desperation and passion and, soon enough, Morrissey found himself being straddled by his boyfriend as their deep kisses became even deeper. Morrissey moaned against the other boy’s lips and shivered as Johnny subconsciously inched his bony fingers under Morrissey's thick sweater. He caught himself and slowly retracted his hand, letting his calloused fingers glide over his skin, before he could do any more damage to Morrissey’s torso. Johnny kissed a trail down across the soft, succulent skin on Morrissey's throat and began to nibble, sure to add to the collection of bruises on his pale, creamy skin. He brought his mouth back up to Morrissey's and growled with their lips together, "Now you belong to me." 

Morrissey giggled in pleasure and said, “I hope my mother doesn’t notice.”

“Oh my God, Moz, don’t bring your mum into this,” he laughed and dug himself into Morrissey’s neck. “I don’t think anyone will notice, what with all the bruises on your body,” he sighed and burrowed further into his boyfriend, “When you get better, I want to cover you with them myself. Let’s agree: from now on, the only marks on your body will be the love bites I give you.” He lifted his head to look at his boyfriend and Morrissey blushed and nodded shyly. Johnny rested his head back on the boy’s shoulder and Morrissey’s fingers found themselves carding through Johnny’s long, black pompadour. 

“Johnny?” Morrissey began.

“Hmm?” he purred in reply, too comfortable to move his head away from Morrissey’s soothing fingers.

“... What are you going to do about Angie? What will you say to her about… us?” he said with trepidation. 

“If she asks then I’ll tell her what I’m going to tell everybody else; I love you and there’s nothing anyone can do to make me love you any less. Otherwise, I don’t think our relationship is anyone else’s business,” he said without much thought. When Morrissey didn’t reply, he turned his head to study his boyfriend’s face.

“What’s wrong, Mozza? he asked compassionately, seeing the conflict on the boy’s face.

“I just --” he shook his head and laughed bitterly to himself, “I- I don’t know what you see in me.”

“Moz, look at me,” he sat up and leaned his forehead against Morrissey’s. Morrissey breathed in deeply, catching a hint of cigarettes and strawberries on Johnny’s lips. “Moz, you’re so beautiful, more than you could ever imagine, and I don’t care what anyone else has to say about it. I love your mind, your humor, your voice, everything; your eyes, your nose, your lips. I want to kiss every part of you, to know everything about you.” he said and pecked at Morrissey’s nose, “I love you because I can: it’s as simple as that. You are I and I am you.” Morrissey smiled in pleasure and looked down shyly at their hands, which had somehow become intertwined. 

“I love you too,” he said lamely and laughed in relief. Every fear and doubt he had had about their relationship had vanished in an instant and he was left feeling nothing but unadulterated love and gratitude for the boy who sat before him. “Come here,” he said, bringing their lips together deeply once again. Before things could get heated however, Johnny pulled away.

“I promised your mother I’d bring you home in the morning -- and look,” he said breathlessly, “it’s nearly noon.” 

“But Joohhnnyy,” he cried, “I don’t want to go home, I want to stay here with you forever. Can you come home with me? I’m sure my mother wouldn’t mind if you stayed over.”

“Maybe later today… I just need you to get some rest and relax your muscles for a few hours. If I stayed over, you'd never heal because I'd be all over you all the time. You need some rest, without me getting in the way, alright?” he said, waiting for Morrissey’s reply. 

“Fine,” he agreed, “but I want to watch a movie with you afterwards -- a James Dean movie.”

“But we've already watched all of them!”

“Johnny, pleeease?” Morrissey begged.

“Alright,” Johnny sighed, giving into Morrissey’s puppy dog eyes. “Come on, get up. We’ve got to get you home soon.”

“Uhm… is it okay if I take a quick shower?” Morrissey asked, suddenly feeling the uncomfortable sensation of dried blood and dirt in every crevice of his body that he’d gotten from the night before.

“Of course, I’ll start the water for you,” he smiled and helped Morrissey out of bed and into the bathroom. 

“Just holler if you need anything else,” Johnny said awkwardly as the water started and the bathroom began to fill up with steam, and left the room. 

Morrissey removed all of his clothing, hesitating at first at removing the skin-tight boxer briefs he was wearing. He took a deep breath and pulled them down, revealing his half-erect penis. The intense closeness and heartfelt proclamations of love he had shared with Johnny just a few moments ago had definitely taken their effect on Morrissey’s body. He climbed into the shower and tried to forget about his pulsating member, knowing that Johnny likely wouldn’t like to engage in any sexual activities with him even if he asked for it, mainly because of his injuries, but also because severe lack of experience. Morrissey had never been in a relationship with another person before, especially a sexual one for that matter. Sex absolutely terrified him. Most kids his age were already having sex on a weekly basis, some girls he knew had already birthed children, whereas Morrissey had hardly just learned how to please himself. Before Johnny, he had never had the chance to consider what sex could be like. The thought that he might finally be able to have a sexual relationship with someone as attractive as Johnny filled him with both excruciating excitement and deathly dread. What if he wasn't good enough for him? What if Johnny became bored by his inexperience and decided that all his time and effort wasn't worth it? What if he simply didn't find him attractive? He also thought about what it might feel like. What would it feel like to have Johnny bury himself deep inside Morrissey? He imagined the heat and pressure that would build up in his stomach with every jaw-dropping thrust of the hips, and the smell of a combination of sweat, cigarettes and sex leaking into his nostrils with every deep breath and gasps he took. Morrissey couldn’t stand his own fantasies, which he knew had the possibility of becoming reality, any longer and he succumbed to desire, gently taking his growing erection in hand. Every nerve-ending in his body immediately exploded with pleasure, causing him to let out an embarrassingly loud moan that he quickly stifled by covering his mouth with his hand. Beginning with slow, simple strokes, he let his mind pretend that his hand was Johnny’s and the hot, steaming water hitting his neck and chest was Johnny’s warm, howling mouth pressing against his pink, raw skin. Morrissey allowed small moans and gasps to escape his lips as his pace grew rapidly with every second. “Mmm, Johnny…oh, fuck…aah… yeah...” he mumbled mindlessly to nothing in particular as he inched further and further towards his climax. Soon, he felt all of his muscles convulse in a shockwave of pleasure and his eyes rolled back as hot, white cum came shooting out in small spurts, leaving Morrissey gasping for breath on trembling legs. He leaned against the tiled shower wall for support, in case his wobbly legs failed him, and patiently waited for the satisfaction of his orgasm to subside and his breath to steady. After a few moments and a few deep breaths, he was able to calm himself down enough to start washing the rest of his body before the hot water ran out. Opening a dark blue bottle of shampoo, he recognized the smell immediately as Johnny’s and, excited by the idea of the smell of Johnny linger on him even after his return home, he quickly squirted a large amount of it into his palm and massaged it into his flattened quiff. After scrubbing clean the rest of his body with his boyfriend’s body gel, he climbed out of the shower, dried off as much as he could, and trotted awkwardly back to the bedroom with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, where he found the clothes he had worn the previous night clean and neatly folded across the bed. He slowly and carefully got dressed, minding his injuries, and padded downstairs in search of his boyfriend.

“Hey,” Johnny called and rose from his spot on the couch when he heard Morrissey’s footsteps descending the steps. Morrissey, without saying a word, slid into Johnny’s arms and dug his neck into his soft skin like a cat marking its territory. “Been using my shampoo, huh?” Johnny asked, breathing in the scent of Morrissey’s still-damp hair. 

“Uh-uh,” Morrissey denied kiddishly.

“Whatever you liar. Are you ready to go?” 

“No!” Morrissey grunted stubbornly.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Johnny insisted, taking Morrissey’s knobby hand into his own and pulling him towards the door.“Oh wait -- here, put this on,” Johnny said, grabbing his signature black leather jacket from the coat hanger and handing it to Morrissey. “I don’t want you to be cold,” Johnny justified. Morrissey beamed up at him and swiftly put on the jacket, which was two sizes too small, eager to be near anything that reminded him of his boyfriend, especially now that they would be parting soon.

“You look beautiful,” Johnny said, stealing a quick kiss from his pouty-faced boyfriend, and trying to lighten the boy up who was still sore at going home.

The two exited the front door and sluggishly trudged to Johnny’s motorbike, knowing that they would both soon be separated from each other when Morrissey returned home. Johnny took his perch upon the smooth, black leather seating, but immediately shot back up and sprinted towards his neighbor’s yard like a fawn, leaving Morrissey vexed and waiting on the bike. “Hold on,” he heard Johnny shout as he ran.

“What are you doing?!” Morrissey shouted back, squinting and seeing Johnny bending down by his neighbor’s flowerbed and ripping out a combination of white and red tulips and a few bright yellow daffodils. “Johnny! You’re going to get us in trouble!” 

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Worrying will only make you hurt even more, y’know. Besides, she’s an elderly woman, so she won’t even notice if a few of her flowers are missing anyway,” he reassured him calmly, smiling a little to himself at the boy’s distress. 

“Jooohhnny, hurry up!” Morrissey whined nervously. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Johnny said, collecting his flowers and getting up even more slowly to tease Morrissey further.

 

“Oh Steven!!” Morrissey’s mother cried as soon as she swung open the door , and she pulled her son tightly into her arms, causing him to whine in pain. She retracted immediately, “Oh, what’s wrong love? Are you alright? Where are you hurting?” 

“I’m fine, mum, only a few bruises. Johnny’s been looking after me,” he added, looking at Johnny through his lashes shyly.

“Oh, Johnny! Get over here,” she said, embracing the smaller boy into a grateful hug. “I can’t thank you enough for everything Johnny!” she said, her head resting on Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny, his hands ghosting over her back hesitantly, finally set his arms on her and squeezed her closer. He smiled to himself and gazed up at Morrissey who was watching the entire heartfelt embrace and they both gave each other loving looks. After what seemed like a few awkward minutes of hugging in the doorway of Morrissey’s front door, Betty finally patted him on the back and released her hold on him. 

“The pleasure was mine, ma’am,” he smiled and held out the collection of colorful flowers to her.

“For me? Oh, you charming young man!” she squealed, looking excitedly between the bright flowers and Johnny’s eyes, crinkled with happiness. “Please -- come in, come in,” she said, coming to her senses and beckoning the boys into her cozy home and out of the frosty air. 

“Oh, well, I-I don’t want to be any more trouble than I should be. Steven needs to rest a little and I’m afraid I would be a distraction. I must be going -- I have a few errands to run anyway,” Morrissey’s eyes peered up at him sadly, not wanting him to leave. “I’ll be back later today, if that’s alright with you ma’am,” he added hopefully and Morrissey’s eyes instantly brightened. 

“Of course, Johnny! You’re welcome here anytime.” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said timidly, “...I should be going now. I’ll call when I’m coming over. Goodbye,” Johnny said and spun around to go.

“Wait --” he heard footsteps scuttering behind him and turned. “Uhm…” he looked down sheepishly and held the black, leather jacket that Johnny had lent him. 

“You keep it,” he said with a toothy grin. Morrissey brought the jacket closer to his chest and smiled to himself. “I love you, Moz,” Johnny whispered softly and Morrissey felt a gentle hand brush against his face. 

“Why do you have to go?” Morrissey whined, “I would feel much better with you here.”

“I’m only leaving for a few hours, I’ll be back as soon as I can -- Plus, you need all the rest you can get.” 

“Fine,” Morrissey agreed grumpily. He looked behind him to check if his mother had gone inside before returning his attention to his boyfriend and planting a big, lingering kiss on the other boy’s lips. They said their reluctant goodbye’s and Morrissey watched Johnny ride into the foggy horizon, his small figure becoming even smaller with every second that passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!!! i'm extremely mad at myself for taking such a long time with this chapter. thanks to everyone for reading!! i love all of your comments so much! i would especially like to thank Marije, Jensen, and Grace for encouraging me to stop procrastinating! i hope to make this at least another chapter longer (maybe even more if i can find the inspiration and willpower). THANK YOU AGAIN FOR READING!!! THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!


	7. Chapter 7

“Johnny’s here!” Morrissey’s mother called to her son as she swung open the front door. Johnny blushed a little and looked down at his shoes, waiting for Morrissey to come downstairs.

“Glad to see you again. What’s this?” Betty prodded, pointing at the large, brown paper bag at the boy’s side.

“Oh, this! Yes, well, there’s some stuff in here for Moz -- er, Steven. Books and movies and stuff like that,” he elaborated. “Oh! And there’s something for you,” he said reaching inside the bag and pulling out a thick box of different types of chocolates. He didn’t know the woman too well but he supposed she would like to enjoy something sweet every once in awhile. 

“Johnny!” She pulled him into another embrace, which seemed to have become somewhat routine. “Thank you! These are my absolute favorite.”

Footsteps emerged from the staircase and Morrissey quickly trotted down to greet his boyfriend. “Johnny!!” Morrissey, overcome with happiness, leaped into his arms and buried his face into the space between Johnny’s neck and shoulder. He breathed in deeply and sighed, “I missed you.” Johnny chucked in return and kissed the top of Morrissey’s head affectionately.

“Missed you too.”

“Ahem!” Betty said, making the two boys just with fright, completely forgetting the woman standing behind them. Johnny pulled away in embarrassment, but Morrissey proudly linked their fingers together and beamed up at his mother. “C’mon in Johnny,” she continued, trying to segue the conversation into something a little less uncomfortable. The boys realized they had been standing in the doorway the entire time, and Johnny quickly waddled in and shut the nipping air out. “I was just about to make dinner; we would simply adore it if you could stay.”

“I would love to stay,” he said, flashing his smile between both Morrissey and his mother. 

After a dinner filled with awkward questions and anecdotes about Morrissey’s childhood, the boys helped clear the table and wash the dishes.

“Hey!” Morrissey shouted swatting Johnny’s hand away as he tried to plop some soap suds on the top of his nose playfully, and the boys soon both fell into a fit of small kisses and giggles. 

“Johnny, you promised we’d watch a movie!” Morrissey whined into Johnny’s repetitive pecks. 

“Once you finish the dishes,” Betty said, sneaking up on the boys again, and making them squeal with fright at her presence. “I’m going to bed, love.” She kissed her son on the forehead compassionately. “Don’t stay up too late. Are you staying tonight Johnny?” she asked, mocking suspicion and directing her sharp eyes towards Johnny. 

“Oh… uhm,” he looked anxiously at his boyfriend for the answer.

“He is,” Morrissey said plainly and proudly.

“As long as you don’t do anything… inappropriate. I’ll be listening to you two,” she said accusingly.

“MUM!” Morrissey cried in embarrassment, but she had already turned and left with a smile.

They hurriedly finished with the dishes and slumped on the couch together with their arms interlocked.

“Oh -- here, I got something for you,” Johnny remembered with a shy grin on his face, and he handed Morrissey the paper bag he had been holding when he came in. “I wanted to give it to you when we were alone.” Morrissey looked at him inquisitively and excitedly rummaged inside to find a slightly-faded, pink v-necked sweater. He gasped in delight and beamed up at his boyfriend. “I saw it in the window of a thrift shop on my way home, and I thought it was perfect for you.” Morrissey’s baby blue eyes sparkled with pleasure and he immediately started to put it on, disregarding the pain he still felt around his battered stomach. “And there’s more!” Johnny said, sliding the discarded bag back to his oversized-sweater-clad boyfriend. 

“More?” he repeated dreamily. 

Johnny began picking the other items out of the bag and handing them to his dazed boy. “I got you some old VHSs and some books and -- oh, this one’s my favorite.” He held out a small, rectangular box and Morrissey hesitantly reached for it, overwhelmed by the amount of gifts he had been brought. Inside was an obviously pre-owned, necklace with various different lengthed strands of white crystals, which glimmered a multitude of colors.

“Johnny!” Morrissey squealed and tugged him into a large embrace. “You shouldn’t have!”

“I wanted to. Don’t you like it?”

“I love it,” Morrissey mumbled, his head pressed against Johnny’s chest. He could feel the boy’s heartbeat, which had begun to race at the excitement of having his presents enjoyed. 

“Why don’t you put it on?” Johnny took the box from Morrissey’s pink-tipped fingers, and carefully unhooked the necklace to bring it around his head. 

“Feels quite loose around my neck. But I love it so much! I suppose I’ll just wear it as a decoration on my trousers,” he giggled. “You do too much for me,” he said, his voice softening.

“I do much less than you deserve,” Johnny retorted, kissing Morrissey on his shiny, red cheeks. “Now -- for that movie you’ve been begging for,” he said as he climbed off the couch, away from his boyfriend’s grasp, to turn the television on. “Want to watch those VHSs I got you? I’m not quite sure what they are -- I only looked at their box covers and not the actual tapes themselves -- so who knows, I may have gotten you someone’s homemade wedding video or even some homemade porn--”

“James Dean!”Morrissey interrupted quickly. “You promised we’d watch a James Dean movie, Johnny!” He smiled pleadingly and Johnny sighed, giving in to his persuasive puppy eyes.

“You’re really in love with this fellow, aren’t you? Why don’t you two just get married already?” Johnny remarked, mocking betrayal.

“Maybe we already are!” Morrissey rebutted defensively. Johnny scoffed and rolled his eyes and the two prepared for their film.

 

“Stop chewing so loudly! I can’t hear the movie,” Morrissey huffed, elbowing Johnny who was spooning him from behind on the couch. 

“Ow!” Johnny said, feigning hurt and choking a little on his popcorn. “It’s not like you don’t know every line to this movie anyway. Why, you might as well write a damned book about the guy since you know every single thing about him --” Morrissey swiveled around on the couch to face him and quickly planted a silence-inducing kiss on the other boy’s buttery lips. “You are impossible,” Johnny grumbled and rested his head against Morrissey’s. As the movie neared its end, and the boys, wrapped up in one of Betty Dwyer’s thick quilts, pressed closer to one another, they soon felt their consciousness ebb away, and their thoughts finally ended.

 

Upon waking up, the two spent the rest of their Sunday at Morrissey’s house, mainly lying down together and watching television, and listening to records in his bedroom while showering each other in chaste kisses and sweet embraces. Johnny had gone home that night, much to Morrissey’s dismay, to let him get some rest and prepare for school in the morning.

 

“Plink, plink, plink!” 

Morrissey groaned and rolled over in his bed. 

“Plink, plink, plink!” 

“What the hell is that?” Morrissey grumbled to himself and he reluctantly opened his sleepy lids. He peered blearily towards the direction of his alarm clock which read in bold, red lights: '5:05 A.M.'. School didn’t start until another two and a half hours. 

“Plink, plink, plink!” 

Where was that annoying sound, which had awakened him so rudely from his slumber, emanating from? He heard the high-pitched noise again, this time able to trace it back to the window. He rose, cringing at how cool the floor was to his bare feet and stumbled over to the window on the opposite side of his bedroom. 

“Johnny! What are you doing? It’s 5 in the morning!” Morrissey shouted as quietly as possible, not wishing to wake up his mother nor the neighbors, to the leather-bound boy in his front yard. 

“Get up and dressed, I’m taking you out to breakfast!”

“Are you crazy? I’m going back to ged,” he huffed and started to close the window. 

“Wait! You’re just going to leave me out here in the cold to die?”

“Just go back home!” Morrissey shouted back grumpily. 

“I will wait out here all day, even if I get hypothermia.”

Morrissey grumbled to himself before closing the window and leaving his boyfriend in the frigid air to die. Johnny sighed and kicked his heel into Morrissey’s lawn in thought. The front door creaked open and Johnny looked up expectantly at the droopy-eyed boy. 

“Well… come on in,” Morrissey said, trying to be nonchalant.

Johnny waited near the stairs for Morrissey to get ready. When he returned, his hair emanate a pungent aroma of hairspray, and he was wearing the pink sweater Johnny had bought him with a matching pink polka dot collar. The sparkles emanating from the crystal necklace dangling from Morrissey’s trousers caught his eye and he smiled.

“Let’s go,” Morrissey worbled and they both returned into the frosty air.

 

“Johnny…” Morrissey started, mid-way through breakfast at their diner, “what do you think we’re going to do about Mike and Andy?”

Johnny quickly swallowed the pancake he was eating, looking up at his boyfriend and frowned. 

“Moz,” his tone of voice hard and serious, “if they continue this charade I’ll teach them a lesson. I don’t care if that means beating the living daylights out of both of them -- I’ve done it before and I’ll --” 

“What do you mean you’ve done it before?” Morrissey interrupted with wide eyes. 

“Well, that Friday night, I saw them re-entering the game with your glasses and I happened to give Mike a good sock in the face,” he stated nonchalantly, though the smug smile on his face told otherwise. 

“You did what!” Morrissey cried, both proud of his boyfriend for his commitment and defense but also worried about how this defense might lead to the duo’s revenge.

“Johnny… I’m scared. I don’t want either of us to get hurt!” 

“You can stay home today! I’m sure your mother would let you.”

“Don’t you think that’s what they’d want me to do? Besides that, I want to see what you did to Mike’s face,” he added lightheartedly. 

 

When they arrived at school, both boys kept an eye out for Mike and his accomplice. Johnny walked Morrissey to his first period class, standing particularly close to the boy in an attempt to ward off any potential threats aimed towards his boyfriend. 

“You’re going to be late, you know,” Morrissey smiled. He leaned against the wall next to the door of his classroom and stared dreamily into the other boy’s golden-brown eyes. 

“I know and I don’t care.” 

Morrissey sighed and looked around nervously before huffing, “I want to kiss you…”

“Moz listen: you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I know… and I don’t care,” Morrissey repeated coyly and lowered his head to give Johnny a chaste kiss on the lips before turning around quickly and retreating to his classroom.  
The ringing of the bell was what finally brought Johnny back to reality. “Shit -- I’m late,” he grunted to himself and began the jog to his own classroom across the school. 

 

“Ahem…” came a gruff voice from behind, which startled the boys. It was lunch and they had not seen nor heard any sign of either Mike or Andy. That was -- until now. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Johnny said, rising up from his place on the cafeteria bench and standing in front of Morrissey protectively. Morrissey peaked his head out a little, trying to see the damage that had been done to Mike’s face. He had a large purple bruise on the side of his face and a thick scab over the bridge of his nose -- he seemed to be healing much slower than Morrissey. 

“I don’t want any trouble…” he said sincerely, but Johnny refused to let his guard down. 

“Then what the hell do you want?”

“Well…” he started and then looked to Andy in desperation before continuing. “I just wanted to… apologize.”

“Apologize?” Johnny repeated and laughed bitterly. “For what?”

“For… you know,” he trailed off defeatedly. Andy sighed and stepped forward.

“What he’s trying to say is that he’s -- we’re sorry for acting like jerks…”

“It’s a little too late for apologies, don’t you think?” Johnny said between his teeth. “Get the hell out of my sight now!” he commanded. 

“Hey man, please -- calm down! We’re sorry, we really are.” Andy pleaded.

“You’re not sorry!” Johnny snapped. “You’re only saying that because you got a beating! And don’t think that I’m not afraid to give you another!” 

“Johnny…” Morrissey whispered hesitantly. “Johnny, I think they’re telling the truth…” 

“What?! You don’t really believe those hooligans, do you?” Johnny said with a note of betrayal in his voice, and turned to face him.

“I just… I don’t want anymore hate!” Morrissey sighed defeatedly and looked up with eyes that begged for understanding. Johnny glared over his shoulder at Andy’s kneaded eyebrows and Mike’s broken face and huffed. He placed a warm palm on Morrissey’s cheek and succumbed.

“I’m not saying I’ll ever forgive them, but if you want me to listen to what they have to say then I’ll do it.” Morrissey gave him a sad smile, and they both directed their attention back to the guilt-ridden boys. “Go on then -- give us your apology.”

Mike stare at Andy expectantly, but he was nervously looking at the floor and shifting from one foot to another.

“Sorry for uh… hitting you,” Mike finally uttered lamely, cringing at the sound of the action he had performed. “And sorry for calling you fags…”

“We’re not fags,” Johnny said matter of factly, “we’re boyfriends.” 

Morrissey felt his face heat up and he looked down, expecting the boys to recant their apologies and recommence their previous bitterness. Instead, he heard a small “...us too” from Andy’s lips. 

“Huh?!” Johnny and Morrissey exclaimed simultaneously.

“Andy!!” Mike hushed between his teeth. His face had begun to turn pink and he nervously looked around.

“The night of the game -- you messed Mike up pretty bad. We ended up going to my place to get him cleaned up… and somehow our feelings for each other were revealed and it went on from there,” Andy said quickly, and Johnny burst out with laughter, causing other students in the cafeteria to look in their direction and making Andy and Mike even more anxious about their judgemental eyes. 

“What the hell is so funny?” Mike said defensively. 

“So all along, you two were the ‘fag-lovers’? You were just in denial, is that it?”

“We’re not fags!!” the boys shouted at the same time, though they immediately lowered their voices when they saw more students beginning to stare. 

“Look… could we talk about this somewhere a little more private?” Mike said quietly.

“No, I think we’re fine where we are.”

“Look man, could you keep this between us.”

“What the fuck is in it for me? Think about how many times you’ve humiliated Moz and I in public! We don’t owe you anything; we can tell anyone we’d like.”

Mike brought his hands to his face and groaned in distress. “Ohh, why’d you have to tell them Andy?”

“We won’t tell,” came a courageous peep, and Morrissey stood up and walked beside Johnny. “We won’t tell,” he repeated, looking at Johnny, persuading him with his hypnotic blue eyes. He had discovered the magic they could do on him and he was eager to use it. 

“Alright, now get the hell out of here,” Johnny grumbled at the boys, and they scuttered away gratefully. Johnny shook his head and they both took their seats again. “I can’t believe it! The whole time they were bugging you for being gay, they themselves were gay. It pisses me off so much! You are far too generous towards them, especially after they took their denial out on you. I wish you would let me be a bit more bitter towards them.”

Morrissey smiled melancholily. “I know, but I think… I think things are going to turn out good for us from now on. I feel, now that I’m with you, there is nothing in the world that could stop us. You and I are invincible.” Morrissey took Johnny’s hand in his and his smile widened, reaching his eyes. “I like what you did to Mike’s face too,” he remarked, and they both burst into snickers. 

 

Days had passed, then weeks, then months. Morrissey was now fully healed of his injuries, and his and Johnny’s relationship had begun to blossom even further with each word they uttered. Their once-separate lives had now become interwoven, and because they had shared so much about themselves and their lives, it was nearly impossible for them to tell whose memory was whose anymore. They had become such an intimate part of one another, there was rarely a time when they weren’t together. They had also started to see a lot more of Mike and Andy. Johnny had gradually begun to let his stubbornness go, nodding at them as he passed in the hallway, and even sharing small conversations with the couple on occasion. To Morrissey, everything seemed to be going perfectly; he had reached the eye of the storm and was cherishing every moment of tranquility he could get ahold of. 

 

Betty Dwyer, eager to leave her dreary library job and humdrum town for at least a moment, jumped at the opportunity to visit a sickly friend on the opposite side of the country, leaving Morrissey alone with the house for a few days. It seemed only natural that he would invite his boyfriend over for a movie that Friday afternoon to lessen his loneliness. Before they had the chance to even turn the television on, however, they somehow found themselves pressing their lips together in a fit of warm and wet passion. Feeling courageous by the thought of being alone with Johnny, with no one to stop him from doing everything he wanted, he had devised a plan which made his heart flutter.  
“Mm, hey -- wait,” Morrissey mumbled into the kiss and Johnny reluctantly released his hold on the boy’s red and swollen lips with an obscene pop. “I… I have something for us,” he panted and, much to Johnny’s dismay, escaped from his place on the couch underneath Johnny and disappeared into the kitchen. Within a few minutes, Morrissey re-emerged with two tall wine glasses, filled with the deep red, swirling alcohol. 

“Is this what I think it is?” Johnny gasped, surprised by the realization that this was the first time he had seem Morrissey around anything alcohol-related. “I didn’t know you drank.”

“I don’t…” Morrissey said shyly, his entire face flushing a deep red, mimicking the wine they were both holding. “My mother bought it the other month and I guess she forgot about it. I thought it would be fun to share my first drink… with you.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Johnny laughed and raised his glass in a toast. “Cheers! To becoming a man!” Morrissey scoffed lightheartedly and they both gulped down their drinks. Morrissey coughed a little from the bitter taste, bringing tears to his eyes, and he felt his chest and belly fill with radiating warmth. 

And so they drank once and it became four. Soon they had fallen to the floor and quickly lost track of all sense of time and pain. Somehow, in the haze of the drunken hour, they found themselves climbing upstairs and flopping onto Morrissey’s bed, the entire time their lips locked. Both boys, their fingers tangled in each other’s hair and faces stained red, kissed each other wetly and sloppily in desperation until their lips were so numb they could no longer feel them. Morrissey, who had been pinned underneath Johnny once again, swiveled them around so that he was the one with Johnny trapped and squirming anxiously underneath him. Morrissey’s lips attached themselves to the smaller boy’s ridiculously long, pale neck. Johnny groaned in pleasure at the sudden moist heat of Morrissey’s howling mouth against his sensitive skin, and brought a hand up to yank gently on a fistful of the boy’s long quiff. Johnny snaked his other hand around his boyfriend’s waist and allowed his fingers to crawl up his thin flowery women’s shirt and brush against his bare skin, making Morrissey quake with desire. He released his hold on the tender flesh of Johnny’s neck and brought his face back to his equally flushed boyfriend.

“Johnny,” he said in a low and husky whisper. “I… I want you to… make love to me,” he said breathlessly. Johnny’s dark eyes widened and his breath caught. Morrissey sat up to unbutton his shirt, painfully taking his time with every button until his bare, bony chest was exposed and his shirt hung loosely, making it seem like he had no body at all. “Johnny, please,” Morrissey panted. Their lips were together once more, but this time Johnny felt Morrissey clumsily trying to unbutton his tight black skinny jeans. 

“Stop --” Johnny said and pushed Morrissey away a little too abruptly, drunkenly underestimating his own strength. Morrissey scooted out of Johnny’s reach, startle by the force of the push, and stared at him in betrayal. “I’m sorry, baby… I just… I can’t do this tonight.”

“I-I’m telling you I want you, Johnny… why are you r-rejecting me?” he asked, his eyes beginning to get glossy. 

“Babe, I’m not trying to reject you. I -- I want our first time making love to be memorable, not distorted with alcohol.”

“What does it matter if it’s distorted or not?” he shouted back harshly, angered by Johnny’s resistance. “I’m giving myself to you! Don’t you want me? Don’t you love me?” Tears were falling freely now from his face. 

“Oh, Moz…” Johnny started, scooting closer to him and reaching his arms out to him, but he recoiled and jumped out of the bed. 

“Get out,” he said in a harsh whisper. 

“Moz, please listen to me --”

“Get out!” he sobbed and pointed towards the open bedroom door. 

“I’m not going to leave you… like this!” Johnny said, his own temper beginning to rise. 

“Why not? You don’t even love me! You’re repulsed by my body, aren’t you?” he accused hysterically. Before Johnny could say anything more the rambling continued. “Get out of my room right now! I don’t want to see you --” There was a sudden pause in the shouting as Morrissey clasped both hands over his mouth and stared wide-eyed at Johnny through the darkened room before stumbling into the hallway and darting towards the bathroom. Johnny followed in confusion and concern, and found Morrissey heaving into the toilet. Johnny sighed and kneeled down next to Morrissey and rubbed small, soothing circles into his trembling back. 

“Too much to drink. Here,” Johnny said, handing him a towel and glass of water to rinse out his mouth.

“Johnny…” Morrissey croaked, looking up at Johnny from his place on the tiled floor with glassy and tragic blue eyes. “I’m sorry… I --” he started plainly, and then burst into tears again. 

“Shh… I know, it’s okay love,” Johnny cooed, pressing the shaking boy against his chest.

“I-I just w-wanted to please you… God, I am so s-stupid. I am such a bad boyfriend…” he whimpered into Johnny’s now moistened shirt. Johnny grabbed Morrissey’s pale face and did his best to wipe his tears away with his thumbs. 

“Moz, I love you. I do want you… but not like this. I don’t want you to feel forced to do anything you’re not ready to do.” Johnny pressed a warm kiss to Morrissey’s forehead and rocked them back and forth. “I don’t mind if we don’t have sex. I will wait as long as it takes until you’re ready.”

“What if… what if I’m never ready?” Morrissey asked hesitantly, looking up with worried blue eyes.

“Then we never have sex -- it’s as simple as that.” Morrissey sighed, relieved by his reassurance, and dug his face back into Johnny’s warm chest. His breaths eventually began to steady and his tears had dried. “Hey, why don’t we go to bed, hmm?” Morrissey nodded lazily, exhausted from his alcohol-induced emotional outburst. Johnny slowly led them back to Morrissey’s room where they both slid under the covers, and clung to each other until they were both taken into the blissful embrace of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, wtf sorry it has taken me thousands of years to update. school has essentially made me a zombie and i lost the willpower to write for a while. this may be the worst chapter i've ever written  
> second, sorry for all the strangeways references, those were especially cringey omfg.  
> third. why am i the worst person ever???? i can't believe i made mike and andy gay in this but it just seemed fitting??? kill me if i'm wrong though.  
> i plan on introducing more angst and characters in this fic, it has come so far! thank you to all of you who are still reading this after such a long writer's block!!!! especially my gal Grace


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!! SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUUUTT!!!

“Johnny…” Morrissey started.

“Hmm,” Johnny hummed sleepily, enjoying the pleasant warmth of Morrissey’s body pressed against his own on Morrissey’s bed, where they had always begun to end up every day after school. The cheery jangles of Morrissey’s records rang throughout his small bedroom, making the space even warmer and fuller. 

“Take me out tonight,” he said quietly. 

“Take you out where?”

“Anywhere -- I don’t care,” he smiled and rolled over to face his boyfriend. 

“Well babe, it’s nearly --” Johnny paused and glanced at the alarm clock on Morrissey’s nightstand. “Nearly midnight,” he smiled sleepily.

“I know but…” He made a gesture with his hands, and Johnny laughed and nodded in understanding. 

“Your mother wouldn’t be too happy about us going out in the middle of the night.”

Morrissey groaned and tossed his head back in obstinacy. “She doesn’t have to know! She’s probably already asleep by now anyway,” he reasoned, laying hopeful eyes upon his boyfriend’s. Johnny rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes and sighed in submission. 

“Alright, get up.” Johnny rose from the bed and patted Morrissey on the bum like a dog, making the boy jump. 

“Hold on! Let me put my shoes on!” he whispered, eagerly shoving on his favorite pair of slip ons. Johnny walked over to the window and peaked out the blinds.

“Moz, look! It’s snowing!”

Morrissey gasped and hopped excitedly to where Johnny was standing. His smile faded.

“Does this mean we can’t go out? Wouldn’t it be dangerous to use your bike in this weather?”

“Yes, I suppose.” Morrissey pouted and flopped back onto his bed. 

“What if we… you know.”

“What?” Morrissey barked.

“Well… we could take your mother’s car.”

“She’d kill me if she found out -- you know how protective she can be.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” Johnny said with an ecstatic twinkle in his eyes.

“Johnny!” Morrissey whined.

“C’mon, the exhilaration will only make things even more fun. Now -- where does your mother keep her car keys?”

 

“Johnny, I’m cold,” Morrissey shivered.

“Come here.” Johnny extended his free arm out to welcome Morrissey into a warm, embrace. Morrissey slid across the light brown bench-seat of his mother’s car to press himself against Johnny. The warmth and comfortable silence that surrounded them combined with the darkness of the outside made Morrissey’s lids heavy with sleep. He was gently shaken back to consciousness by the car driving over a rather large pothole on the gravel road before them, before resting his head back on Johnny’s shoulder. 

“Where are we?” he asked, rubbing his eyes and squinting. They were surrounded by the large, looming silhouettes of trees and mountains. His eyes strained further and he could make out a sea of sparkles past the trees, the waves of a lake reflecting the moonlight. 

“I thought you’d enjoy the mountains,” Johnny smiled shyly. “It’s very quiet and serene, and --”

“The mountains! Are you crazy?” Morrissey rubbed his eyes again and looked outside again to see the white specks hitting the windshield of the car and the snow that had collected on the side of the road. “Driving in the mountains is as dangerous as driving a motorcycle in this weather!”

“What difference does it make if it’s snowing or not? As long as we’re together nothing else matters. If we crash, we crash -- to die by your side sounds like a heavenly way to die anyway.”

Morrissey sighed in defeat and moodily placed his head back on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“It is nice though,” he finally admitted after a while with a small smirk. “Thank you.” Morrissey tenderly began to place a trail of kisses along Johnny’s long neck, which glowed in the limited light, making the boy’s breath hitch and tighten his grip on the wheel. Morrissey was so close to him, he could feel his heart rate elevate. Suddenly, a strange sense of bravery gripped him and he said with a glint in his eye, “Why don’t we… park somewhere?” 

“Oh -- oh,” Johnny stammered and quickly parked at the first viewpoint they came across. 

“Thanks for this…” Morrissey started. Johnny smiled and kissed him gently on the lips. Morrissey kissed back harder and deeper, placing both hands on the side of Johnny’s face to steady them. They stayed like this, returning each other’s kisses with increasingly more passion and heat, until neither one of them could remember how cold it was outside. “I love you,” Morrissey mumbled repeatedly into their kisses. Johnny felt himself being pushed back into the smooth leather seats of Betty Dwyer’s car. Johnny ripped their sore lips apart so they wouldn’t pass out from lack of air. Morrissey was on top of Johnny, straddling him with his long frame like a spider capturing its prey. His lips were red and swollen and his cheeks were a rosy pink. The penetrating blue rings of his eyes were nearly all consumed by dark and growing pupil, a sign of desire. 

“You’re beautiful…” Johnny sighed, and brought his hungry lips to Morrissey’s warm, flushed neck, making the quiffed boy moan in reply. 

“Johnny…?” Morrissey panted. Johnny hummed into his neck, the vibrations radiating throughout Morrissey’s skinny body and rattling his bones. When he didn’t say anything more, Johnny freed the flesh he was gnawing on and looked up at the boy above him. 

“What, Moz?” Morrissey looked him in the eyes and they both understood. “We can’t -- not right now at least….” he said reluctantly. “I haven’t brought any condoms or lube and -- and we’re in your mother’s car!”

“Well we could do other things… things that don’t require condoms or lube…” Morrissey suggested bravely.

“Like what?” Johnny’s voice trembled with lust.

“Like this,” Morrissey stated before placing his palm against Johnny’s half-hard erection. Johnny gasped and threw his head back, surprised at the sudden warmth and pressure against his sensitive penis. “Is this okay?” Morrissey asked shyly, and Johnny moaned and nodded quickly, too concentrated on the pleasure he was feeling to speak. Morrissey slid his palm slowly up and down Johnny’s groin, the fabric of his jeans filling Johnny with agonizing desire.

“Two can play at that game,” Johnny giggled, and boldly placed his own hand on Morrissey’s erection. Morrissey gasped and his eyes widened in shock. 

“I-I’ve never been t-touched like this before…” Morrissey admitted, and stared nervously at Johnny, expecting the boy to lose interest with him because of his inexperience. 

“Good,” Johnny stated matter-of-factly, “I want you all to myself.” Before Morrissey could react to his comment, Johnny sunk his teeth back into Morrissey’s raw neck, and ran his hands along the dimples of his boyfriend’s lower back. Morrissey’s nimble fingers slowly inched their way into Johnny’s black skinny jeans. He unbuttoned them exaggeratedly slow, and dragged them down low enough to reveal Johnny’s outlined erection through tight white underwear. Morrissey looked up at him nervously, searching for an indication to keep going. Johnny just panted and grinned. Johnny took hold of Morrissey’s hand and guided it into his underwear. 

“Ooh… “ he groaned and rolled his head back, pleasing heat filling his stomach. The sensation of touching someone else and watching their most minute reactions was almost as satisfying as someone touching him. Desperate to uncover and run his fingers along even more skin, Morrissey pulled Johnny’s underwear down even further. Morrissey saw Johnny’s penis flop up in liberation. He wasn’t particularly thick, but he was incredibly long for such a short man. 

“Wow…” was all Morrissey could shakily utter. The only time he had ever come in contact with penises was when he would timidly skim through the gay magazines on display in the sketchy parts of town. He had always been incredibly embarrassed by his penis, more so than other men. He would only ever compare his own length to the length of the men in the magazines, and he had grown ashamed. Was he average, or abnormally small? Maybe it only seemed so because the men in the magazines were abnormally large. Now, looking at Johnny’s purple, pulsating erection, he felt a little less embarrassed about his own member. 

“Touch it,” Johnny said softly, after sensing the trepidation Morrissey was showing. 

“Is this alright?” Morrissey wrapped a hand, trembling from either lust or fear, around Johnny’s cock. Johnny gave a quavering sigh in reply, and closed his eyes. Morrissey began a gentle rhythm, looking up at Johnny and loving every turn of his head and twitch of his face, and felt the effect of those reactions in his own enlarging penis. He loved how in-control he was. It was a foreign feeling to him, but a good one. 

“Oh fuck, wait -- stop,” Johnny stuttered. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He somehow flipped the two of them over and assumed the control that Morrissey had taken a liking to. He placed a bold hand on Morrissey’s bulge, and quickly began to unbuckle and pull down his pants and underwear in one swift motion. Johnny’s breath hitched visibly and he paused, staring at Morrissey’s cock. 

“What?” Morrissey asked sitting up on his elbows nervously to see what the problem was. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing! It’s just --” Johnny raised his eyebrows, “how am I supposed to fit all of that in my mouth?” Morrissey barely stifled an embarrassingly large groan by biting his lower lip. Johnny laughed and took Morrissey into his hand, and began a steady rhythm. Morrissey’s mouth fell open wide but no sound came out, for Johnny quickly covered his opened mouth with his own hungry one. Their kisses and movements grew sloppier as Johnny’s pace quickened and he started to touch himself with equal zeal. Johnny proceeded from his boyfriend’s numb mouth and kissed his way down his neck and over the love bites he had planted earlier. He made his way down to Morrissey’s leaking erection, tenderly licked his up and down the sensitive glands on his shaft and flicked his tongue on the glistening purple head. Morrissey made a strangled noise and unconsciously fisted his fingers through his hair and buckled his hips, begging Johnny to continue. Johnny took Morrissey into his mouth as far as he could and looked up at him through dark lashes. 

“Oh my God,” Morrissey moaned at the sight of him. He had never felt such incredible pleasure in his life. He felt like all of his nerve endings were exploding. Johnny slowly began bobbing his head up and down, filling Morrissey with intoxicating satisfaction and warmth. At the same time, Johnny was working on his own member as slowly as he could bear. He wanted to come with his boyfriend. His bobbing quickened as they sensed that they were both near the edge. 

“Johnny! I’m gonna --” Morrissey cried, and Johnny felt sudden creamy heat shoot down his throat. He kept his lips tight around Morrissey letting him ride out his orgasm, and tried his best to swallow most of his cum. Johnny, even more turned on by the sight of his flushed boyfriend splayed out before him gasping for breath, within a few more thrusts of the hand, came in short and blissful spurts onto his hand and Morrissey’s plain white t-shirt. 

“Fuck…” Johnny groaned, and he leaned his damp forehead against Morrissey’s. A shy smile spread across Morrissey’s face and he planted one last lingering kiss on Johnny’s sore lips. “Well…what’d you think?”Johnny asked after catching his breath. 

“When can we do that again?” Morrissey laughed, and Johnny lazily lifted himself from him.

“Sorry about the mess,” Johnny pointed to the t-shirt. He did his best to wipe it up as much as he could with a napkin he had found lying around somewhere. They redressed themselves and laid across the bench-seat spooning each other. They’d found a quilt under the back seat and wrapped themselves up in it. Johnny had decided that they were both too sleepy to do any driving, and that sleeping in the car was the wisest choice. All Johnny needed was a few hours of rest. He hadn’t had an orgasm like that in a while, and he was unsurprisingly both exhausted and relieved at the release of all that sexual tension between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is: the worst chapter i have ever written :) i have no excuse for making you guys wait so long for such a crappy chapter omg please forgive me. there will be more to come!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!!! More chapters are on the way :) Feel free to leave me a comment on what you think. All criticisms are greatly appreciated!


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